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New York dispatch. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1863-1899, December 11, 1864, Image 6

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EGOD BLESS OUR GALLANT SONS.
By W. Mitchell.
Hess onr f sens,
our K>ved aau.eherisoea cats;
Be Thou their sb>e)d.
WiM b clouds of dartnesß lower.
rr *'-n f'. n f nrtiebt a n d nowf,
©Card then* in each dark hour
VM OttUlV Hod.
"flreat God” their Captain prove,
Pmtpet tbn ones we Jove,
Far from their bbine.
Jn nnii-R ruKe cornmnnd, *
Ajhl ever by them fctaad,
vr * <n a stranger Uutt
Mid tote they ream.
r ««r thou each lender sifih,
Brv every weeping eye,
Opr Jcved ones save.
A>d then, great God, to Tfcee
Our bungs uf praise 'boil he,
While cve r land and «e-a
Oir Hag shaD wave.
iWxttten for the Hew Tort DtepatchJ
"BEAD BEATS."
A TRUTHFUL INCIDENT.
BY AUGI’STVS COMSTOCK.
Simon Leadpills was the surgeon of the
Fennsylvairia regiment. He was about thirty;
five years of age, tall, round-shouldered, with
light blue eyes and straw-colored hair.
There was a rumor that he was not very
skillful, but it was generally believed that the
report was oiiginated by the ‘‘dead beats”
through motives of revenge, because he
“ showed them up” so unmercifully.
He certainly displayed much skill in detect
ing the “dead beats,” who, in order to shirk
the laborious “ double quick,” the “bayonet
exercise,” and other tiresome manenvres per
taining to the daily “drills,” were in the
habit of presenting themselves as candidates
far the sick list.
Before any candidate for “invalid honors”
aould be marked unfit for duty, he would have
to pass successfully the rigorous examination
and cross-queetioniijg of the careful Leadpills.
Jt often happened, therefore, that a certain
guilty confusion of manner, or a propensity to
♦xaggeration in regard to the pain he pretend
ed to suffer, would lead the complainant into
•xe or more of the snares which the wily doc
tor was always preparing for hypocrisy.
In order that. I may give an example, the
reader will please imagine Leadpills seated in
hie tent before a table, ready to examine the
•rowd who, in answer to the sick call which is
Bounded on the drum every morning, have
presented themselves at tbe entrance to his
quarters.
“ Tom Shiftless 1” cries the doctor, calling
the man whose name is tbe first upon the list
•f one of the sick books.
“•Here!” answers a plaintive voice, and a
“strapping” young soldier, with bright eves
and ruddy cheeks, but with a “limp” in his
gait, moves slowly toward the table.
“Well, Tom Shiftless,” says the doctor,
surveying him from head to foot with a very
serious expression of countenance, “yon do
look bad. What is the matter with you,
•b-h-h?”
This manner of prolonging the “eh”—a
Manner peculiar to the doctor—conveys an
idea of suspicion, and the soldier colors and
looks confused. This confusion is perceived
by Leadpills, and before the other can reply,
he repeats his question.
“Rheumatism in the knee and side,” an
swers Shiftless ; “ very bad, sir. Can’t walk
n«r stand—that is, not hardly,’ ’ he adds, cor
rerfhig himself.
“Yes, sir,” exclaims the doctor, sharply;
*• a terrible pain in the ear taaoltotarn, eh-h-h ?’ ’
“Yes, sir."
“Oh ! so you know the location of the eax
JOMllotum ?"
" Yes, sir."
“ Then you know more than I do,” says the
doctor, with a grim smile. “ What do you
think of that, eh-h-h ?”
Shiftless is now so nearly overwhelmed that
he starts back, and forgets himself so far as to
balance his body upon the leg which he has
stated is so badly affected with rheumatism.
“ Sc you can’t hardly stand, eh-h-h ?” cries
Leadpills, looking straight at the rheumatic
leg
•• No, sir,” stammers Shiftless; and perceiv
ing the direction of the doctor’s glance, he
" changes legs” very quickly. “ No, sir ; and
hard work hurts the limb dreadfully. I can’t
Mee/ at all.”
■ You have to stoop when you work in the
trenches, do you not t” .
“ Yes, sir; but I really couldn’t do it
MOW ?”
“I suppose not,” answers Leadpills, with
another grim smile. “ How long have you
been so bad ?’ ’
"I’ve felt it for several days, but I ”
“Ah ! there goes my book interrupts the
doctor, suddenly, as bis elbow, apparently by
accident, strikes one of the volumes upon the
tables, causing it to fall to the floor.
Tom Shiftless, in his eagerness to win the
food opinion of the doctor, forgets himself,
and, stooping quickly, picks the book from the
floor, and places it in its proper position.
“ Thank you, sir!” exclaims Leadpills. “ I
■perceive that yon are unable to stoop. It’s too
bad —isn’t it—eh-h-h ?”
'The confusion of the “ dead beat” is now so
great that he cannot utter a word, and, men
tally cursing the shrewd Leadpills, he makes
his way to his own tent, from which he is or
dered a few minutes afterward for a week's
duty in the trenches.
The preceding example is only One of a hun
dred which we might give to illustrate the
Burgeon's manner of detecting the “dead
beats ;” and we must add that these hypocrites
were so many that they had completely hard
ened the doctor's heart, so that he was liable
to make light of the sufferings of those who
were really unwell and unfit for duty.
One morning, a pale, interesting-looking
youth, answering to the name of Frederick
Brandon, entered the tent of Leadpills, and. to
the doctor’s customary question, replied that
he believed his lungs were affected.
“ Your lungs, ch h-h ?’ ’ exclaimed Leadpills,
in his usual tone of suspicion. “ Let me feel
•f your wrist.”
Having held the round, delicate wrist in his
bony hand for a moment, the doctor declared
to Brandon that his pulse was perfectly regu
lar.
“ There can be nothing the matter with you,
young man,” he added, bluntly. “ You can’t
deceive me, you perceive, so you had better
be off!”
The blue eyes of Brandon flashed, and a
feverish blush overspread his sunken cheek.
“You are mistaken!” he exclaimed, in a
voice which, although expressive of indigna
tion, was strangely musical. “ You are mis
taken ! lam very unwell —no longer fit for
the army ; and I must have my discharge !”
“Ho! ho! ho!” laughed the doctor, while
a sarcastic light danced in his eyes; “So you
want your discharge ? There’s a movement to
be made in a few days against the enemy, and
perhaps that is why you are so anxious to get
your discharge. All very natural—isn’t it—
eh-h-h ? I suppose that yon would like- ”
He paused suddenly, for a dry, hacking
•ougb, which not even a quack could have
mistaken, broke upon his ear.
“Umph!” he ejaculated, “ perhaps I was a
little mistaken. Your wrist again, young
man. If you are not feigning that cough,
I- ”
Before he could conclude, Brandon threw
•pen him a look of mingled contempt and in
drgnation, and glided out of the tent.
•“ A singular young man,” muttered Lead
pills, turning to his assistant. “Do you know
anything about him ?”
“A little,” answered the assistant. “His
•emrades tell me that he is the most q«iet man
in the regiment; and. according to all ac
counts, he is nothing of a * dead beat.' Hrs
health seemed good enough when he first
joined us, but after Will Warren deserted the
regiment, a month ago, I noticed that he
grew pale and dejected, and I really think that
he is now very unwell. He thought much of
Warren, who was his chum and tentmate, and
I shouldn’t wonder if his desertion preys hea
vily upon his mind; for, as you can perceive
yourself, he is a very delicate and sensi
iive ”
“Pshaw!” interrupted the doctor, “I am
Burprised at your ignorance. Men never be
come so attached to each other as all that
amounts to! The boy has probably taken
•old by sleeping upon the damp ground
while out on picket duty. I’ll cure him soon
enough, I’ll warrant you. As to discharging
him,that is not to be thought of, for we’ve no
men to spare just, now.”
With these words, tire doctor seized a pen
al) and writing a prescription upon a piece of
paper, gave tbe latter to his assistant.
"You bad better take tbe medicine to him
at cnee,” punned Leadpills, and he then pro-
ceeded to «aH tbe man whose name was next
to that of Brandon upon the side list.
Having procured the necessary medicine,
tbe doctor’s assistant now hastened in the di
rection of the tent which was occupied by
Brandon. But he had not gone many steps
when the sharp report of a rifle broke upon
his ears, and the next moment he beheld a
thin column of smoke rise out through the
half opened front of the shelter toward which
hie footsteps were directed.
He rushed forward and gained the tent sim
ultaneously with, a number of his comrades,
one of whom now proceeded to pull aside the
i canvas.
Peering through the opening, thus made,
the men were horrified to behold the corpse
of Frederick Brandon, stretched out upon the
floor of the tent. The temple and forehead
of the youth were badly shattered, and the
deadly rifle by which the work of self-de
struction liad been accomplished, was still
clutched in the white and delicate fingers.
But the sad emotions excited in the hearts
of the spectators by this fearful sight were
rendered still more thrilling—still more sod—
by a discovery which was now made by these
men for the first time For, as they were lift
ing the body from the floor, the jacket became
disarranged about the breast, revealing to
their gaze the snow-white bosom of a fe
male!
“And so Wni Warren was her lover 1” sor
rowfully murmured the assistant, “ and it
was his desertion which caused her illness.
'Hie poor thing wanted her discharge—wished
to go home to die—and perceiving that the
doctor would not grant her this sad privilege,
she killed herself! Alas! alas! The doctor
as well as Will Warren, is to blame for this
deedl”
The body of the young girl was buried
among the forest pines. Dr. Leadpill is now a
restless, haggered man. Sometimes when the
nights are dark and still,he fancies he can hear
a hollow, hacking cough coming from an in
visible source.
[Written tor the Few Tort: Dwsich.)
INSTANCES OF LONGM,
Lord Bacon, in his Sylva Sylvarum, gives
the following passages, chiefly translated from
Pliny’s seventh book of Natural History.
“The year of our Lord seventy-six falling
into the time of Vespasian, is memorable, in
which we find, as it were, a calendar of long
lived men ; for that year there was a taxing
(now a taxing is the most authentical. and
truest information of the ages of men), and in
that of Italy which lieth between the Appe
nine Mountains and the river I’o, there were
found one hundred and twenty-four persons
that either equaled or exceeded an hundred
years of age, namely—fifty-four were one hun
dred years each, fifty-seven were one hundred
and ten each, two were one hundred and
twenty-five, four were one hundred and thirty
five, and three were one hundred and forty.”
The most remarkable case, however, which
Pliny records, is one Marcus Aponiue, a native
of Ilimino. who died at tire age of oue hun
dred and fifty’ years.
The most extraordinary case of longevity on
record is that of one Henry Jenkins, an Eng
lishman, who lived to the great age of oue
hundred and sixty-nine years. He died in his
native place, Yorkshire, on the Bth day of De
cember, 1670.
Next to Jenkins we have the famous Tho
mas Parr, who was a native of Shopshire, and
died on the 16th of November, 1635, at the
age of one hundred and fifty-two.
Tbe Countess cf Desmond, an Irish lady,
paw her one hundred and fortieth year; and
the celebrated Colonel Winslow, a native of
Ireland, lived to the great age of one hundred
and forty-six.
Scotland has furnished in the person of John
Taylor, a miner by trade, her greatest instance
of longevity. At four years of age he dressed
lead orc for two pence per day. The next four
years he assisted the miners in removing the
ore and rubbish to the bank for four pence per
day. At this period there was a great solar
eclipse, which was distinguished in Scotland
by the name of Uirk (or dark) Monday. This
event, which he always repeated with the
same circumstances is the chief era from which
John’s age has been computed. He died near
Lead-hills, in Scotland, in the month of May,
1770, aged one hundred and thirty-three.
In Professor Silliman’s Journal we have an
account of cne Henry Francisco, a native of
France, then residing in tlie city of Quebec,
who was believed to be and affirmed he
was one hundred aud thirty-four years old.
His complexion was very fair and delicate, aud
his expression bright, cheerful and intelligent;
his features were handsome, and considering
that they had endured through one-third of a
second century, they were regular, comely a.nd
wonderfully undisfigured by the hand of time;
his eyes were of a lively blue, his profile was
Grecian and very fine; his head was completely
covered with the most beautiful and delicate
white locks imaginable, they were so long and
abundant as to fall gracefully from the crown
of his head, parting regularly- from a central
point aud reaching down to the shoulders. His
stature war of middle size, and although his
person was rather delicate and slender, he
stooped but little, even when unsupported.
His own account of himself was, that he
and his father fled from France in the latter
part of the reign of Louis tire XIV, in conse
quence of the persecutions following the revo
cation of the edict of jVtoites, that he took
refuge in Holland, and afterward in England ;
that he remembered his emigration to Cana
da in 1691, and the coronations of Queen Ann
in 1702 at which time he was sixteen years
old. He had fought in all of Queen Ann’s
wars, and exhibited the scars of several
wounds, but only remembered the Duke of
Marlborough among the commanders he had
served under. He had been married twice,
and was the father of twenty-one children, and
then lived with his youngest daughter a fe
male of some fifty-two years of age.
In the tenth volume, second series of tire
Massachusetts Historical Collections, there is
an account of a number of instances of longevi
ty, which have been known to occur in New
Hampshire. Within the ten years from 1810
to 1820, eighty persons are recorded to have
died, who were above the age of ninety years,
twenty-nine of whom reached or exceeded the
age of one hundred. Beside these, there have
died in that State, within the last century,
one person of one hundred and twenty; one of
one hundred and sixteen ; one of one hundred
and fifteen ; one of one hundred and ten ; one
of one hundred and eight, and on down to one
of one hundred and five.
But if we turn our attention to tbe irration
al part of God’s creatures, we may find many
curious and wonderful instances of longevity.
Some buds have afforded remarkable in
stances of this fact.
Mr. Willoughby, a celebrated Ornithologist,
records the fact, that a friend of his had kept
a goose known to be fourscore years of age,
and as yet was sound and lusty and likely to
live many years longer. But the mischievous
propensities of tbe bird brought her to an un
timely end, as she was finally killed for wor
rying and destroying the young geese and gos
lings. This same author affirms that a goose
will live a hundred years and more. Eagles
are remarkable for their longevity, and their
power to sustain a long abstinence from food.
A golden eagle, nine years in the possession of
Owen Holland in Conway, (England) lived
thirty-two years with the gentleman whom-ide
him a present of the bird ; but what its age
was when Mr. Holland obtained it he knew
not. It had been caught when y-oung in Ire
land, and a remarkable fact in its history was,
that through the neglect of servants to feed it,
it had endured hunger for twenty-one days.
A Pelican kept at MeMm in the Brobant,
in the reign of the Emperor Maximilian was
known to be not hiss than eighty years old.
Pigeons have been known to live twenty-two
years. Even linnets, gold-fishes, &c., often
live in cages, fifteen, twenty and twenty-three
years.
Gesner (a German author) gives an instance
of a car;o which he knew to be one hundred
years old ; and the celebrated Buffon declares
he had seen in the ponds of Count Mauripas,
carps one hundred and fifty years old. He
even mentions one in particular which he be
lieved to be two hundred years old.
Two methods have been devised for ascer
taining the age of fishes; namely, by the cir
cles of the scales, and by the transverse section
on the back bone. When a scale of a fish is
examined by the microscope, it is found to con
sist of a number of circles one within another,
resembling in some measure, those rings that
appear on the transverse eectfon'of trees by
which thejr ages are computed. In this man
ner tbe ages of fishes may be ascertained, by
reckoning for each ring one year of the fish’s
life. The ages of Count Buffon’s fishes were
chiefly determined in this way.
As to reptiles, there is an exceedingly curi
ous, interesting, and well authenticated as-
cour t of a toad, whose longevity and docility
afforded Dr. Milles, dean of Exeter, J. Arscott,
of Tehott, Devonshire, and Mr. Pennant, a
natural historian, much instruction and amuse
ment. It had been in possession of Mr. Ars
cote’s father for a number of years before he
was born, and was spoken of by his father as
being a long time with him. Tbe son testifies
that he had known it for over years.
In the evening when the candles were lighted,
it would approach the table where the lights
stood, and look up as if expecting to bo taken
np and placed on it, which had been done for
years, where Mr. Arscott had fed it with insects.
Visitors came long distances to see it, and
even ladies overcame their natural repugnance
to it and petted it. It had grown to an enor
mous size, and would have probably lived
many years longer had not a tame raven pull
ed out one of its eyes, which evidently' impair
ed its health, and no doubt was the cause, ul
timately, of its death.
We leave to the readers’ own reflections, the
mooted question as to whether the sum of
man’s real enjoyment would be increased by a
greater average length of human existence than
the one now allotted to us by our Creator.
But if it be true that the rapidity of onr ideas
in youth, the intensity of our enjoyments, and
the succession of our thoughts, is the real
measure of time; as philosophers affirm, one
may live a long time though he die compara
tively young, while the mere prolongation of
years may not be desirable, as we cease to be
interested in the concerns of life, and it proves
to us an intolerable burden.
The following extraordinary instance of lon
gevity speaks-for itself:
“ A Man who Voted ron Washing ton Votks
fob Lincoln.—As this is almost certainly the
only instance in which a voter for George
Washington will again vote at a Presidential
election', we print the following interesting ac
count from the Springfield (Mass.) Republican:
“ To the Editor of the Republican:
“ Deacon John Phillips, of this town, who
is one hundred and four years four months and
nine days old, appeared at the town hall and
deposited hie ballot for Presidential electors
and State officers. He was brought io a car
riage, and then conveyed into the hall in a
chair, supported by a platoon of our returned
soldiers, and received by the citizens of the
town rising from their seats with uncovered
heads, amid the tears and heartfelt emotions
cf all present. After resting for a moment,
the venerable patriot expressed a desired to
shake hands with all the returned soldiers.
“ Some thirteen soldiers then formed in line,
when each one was introduced to the patri
arch, and took him by the hand, with the an
nouncement of the time each had served in
the army. The last soldier introduced, a Mr.
King, an Irishman, said he had served the
country three years, and had enlisted for three
years more, and if that was not long enough
to subdue the rebellion he was ready for an
other three years. After this, three hearty
cheers were given for tbe returned soldiers,
and three rousing cheers by the whole as
semblv for the ‘ old soldier of the Revolu
tion.’
“Col. Edward Phillips, eldest son of the
venerable deacon, now in his 86th year, then
made an impromptu speech to the soldiers, in
the course of which he said that he was the
oldest man in town who was born in town, and
yet, said he, my father is here, and “still
lives.” The old gentleman was then presented
with two sets of votes, one for Abraham Lin
coln, and one for George B. EcClellan, aud re
quested before all present to take his choice,
when he reached out his hand, and in audible
and deep-toned bass voice, said, ‘ I shall take
the one for Abraham Lincoln.’
“ The town then voted that the Chairman
of the Selectmen present the ballot-box to the
old gentleman, who took his billot with bqjh
hands apd deposited it in the box, stating that
he had voted for Washington for President,
and had attended all the Presidential elections
since, excepting that four years ago, when he
was sick and did not attend.
“The following preamble and resolutions
were then presented to the town meeting,
which were adopted by a unanimous vote:
“ Whereas, Our very memorable and highly
respected fellow-citizen Deacon John Phillips,
who is this day one hundred and four years four
months and nine days old. and who yet retains
his mental and physical faculties m a high de
gree--and
“ Whereas, He haa traveled some two miles to
attend this town meeting, and has deposited hie
ballot for Presidential electors and State, County
and town officers: therefore
*' Rfsolved, That this be entered on the re
cords of the town as a lasting memorial of hie
undying patriotism and devotion to country, and
as an incident, perhaps, unparalleled in fne an
nals of our Government
“ Sturbridge, Mass., Nov. 8,181’1.”
WrrhXg Siwip.
We open onr gossip thia week with an interest
ing contribution from a stranger, who signs him
self Peter Piper—a not very distinguished appel
lation, by the way, but a fault we can overlook
eo long as the matter he sends us is as readable
as the following
STUMP SPEECH.
Not a hundred years since—l shan’t sav when—
in the town or city of—as yon have a mind to eali it
—I won’t say where, the political canvas for ruiars
cf I don’t think yon will be any the wiser if I
tell you what—became very exciting; an-i I will
give yon a specimen of a regular stump spaae’a
made from the summit of an oil oak stump—
which, by the bye, may account for its toughmss
—before an admiring multitude of Whig electors.
The epeaker was a. tall, thick-set, sunburnt,
bushy-whiskered individual, and as etentoiiws
in voice as he was elephantine in body. lie
mounted the stump, and thus gave vent to his
feeliugs:
“My voice is still for war, fellow-citizens!
Gurd on your swords a.ni onward to the battle
affray, with hearts resolved to be victorious, or
cover yourselves with glory in the entrenchments
of duty, satisfactorily aud nobly achieved. Let
not the sun of Oyster Bay go down upon our de
feat, nor the glorious banner of the immortal
party be crumpled under the feet of onr enemies.
March onward! straight forward I turning neith
er to the right nor to the left; but, like a mighty
planek-sxe, charge right inter their very jaws !
Make them tremble with the mighty sound of
your iudigent voices as your cries of deformation
iusceeds up to the clouds I Shake them with the
invisible hammer of truth ; break them in pieces
with the great sword of justice what you see in the
hards of the statty or the Goddess of Liberty ;
up there on that staple of the city hall. Smite I
them with the prevailing eppordemios of general i
mismanagement and dereliction in office: ex- j
punge them with the black lines of disorganize- i
lion. Ixt your metto be what tbe boy said whan :
he tried to learn the Greek alphabet—at ’em, I
beat ’em, damn ’em, pelt ’em, and pitch into ’em |
like an eruption of the small-pox, till the seeds
of contention be scattered among ’em like the
frogs among the Egyptians. Lay ’em low by the
force of your matchless prowess, that their car
casses may strew the ground of political concom
ity, and the stench of their pollution vanish in
the aromatic vapors of whig virtue 1 Slay them
with the spirit of your breath—or any other
epirit that comes handy—and teach them that
your wrongs are your bullarke, iron-bound with
the hoops of determination, clinched by the rivet
of resolution, and beautifully polished by the
elbow-grease of energy aud the rod of correc
tion-——”
((Xtben— “That man must be a blacksmith.”)
“ Secure to yourselves the road to fortune
through a protective tarif! Let the walls of that
crumbling sandstone free trade give place to the
solid and substantial granite of protective du
ties, well plastered by the incorruptible and firm
ly fticking compound—Clay esment ”
( Citizen—“ No 1 he is a mason.”)
“When thus firmly fixed in its foundation, place
on it the rafters of constitutional oak. clapboard
it with the Declaration of Independence, and
shingle it with the farewell address of Washing
ton ”
(Citizen, —“ Or else a carpenter.”)
“ Then furnish it with tables of protective tariff)
chairs of public improvement, beds of domestic
manufactures, sofas of internal extention, and
cradles of home production."
(Citizen—“Ho, by the rood! he is a cabinet
maker.”
“Then yon may sit down on the stool of ease,
wrap yourself in the horn of plenty, and reap the
enjoyments of conjugal felicity and perpetual
pioejierity, and drink the cup of bliss in warm
nix come rouse, e plmibus unum, non oompus
mentis in foto, salmagundi.” (A long breath.)
(Citizen “ Oh! there’s Latin for you; he’s a
teacher.”)
But, my friends, all this cannot be accom
plished unless you wax strong in the faith
handed up to you by your philoprogenitors,
strap on the whole armor of might, devote body
and soul to the great all of your principles, seize
your adversaries wherever you find ’em, and
hammer them on the lapstone of repentance.”
(Citizen—“l say he is a shoemaker.”
“ Until their seams ere well basted, stitched
with the thread of conviction, and their bodies
are clothed in the garments of reformation,
smoothed down with the iron of conscientious
duty for having voted the right ticket.”
(Citizen “And I ssy ho is a tailor.”)
“ And now, my fellow-citizens, ae I have in
structed yon in your duties, go home and do
them. Don’t lag by the way, but give free vent
to the epirit of your convictions, and if you can’t
inspire your fellow countrymen with your own
feelings, and instil into their minds the spirit of
truth in any other way but by pouring spirit;
down, Jet it flow freely, and TH foot the tnll.’’
NEW YORK DISPATCH.
(Citizen,—“ Hooray 1 tliaris the talk t")
j “Then ehall the glorious eagle soar in his hem
ispherical sphere, sweep through the atmosphere
of regenerated liberty and crush the demon of
tyranny by the mighty swoop of its extended
wings forever and ever. Amen 1*
The transition from the American Eagle to the
Irish Fox is both easy and natural, although the
Irish Fox apparently was not the kind of bird
that was sought for by the enthusiastic sports
men who figure in the subjoined
FOX STOHY.
Two business gentlemen from New Haven, who
occasionally indulge in a little sporting experi
ence, visited Southington, on a hunt, the other
day. Birds were not very plentiful, and with
doubtful success the gentlemen started for the
depot toward night, to take the train home.
Coming across an Irishman, they incidentally
asked him if there were any rabbits, partridges,
quails, foxes, or any other game absut there.
“ Bedad tliere are that! I can put mo finger on
a met of foxes where there is five young ’uns and
tbe old’un! They are so tame yez can stroke
’em with yer band. This was a chance to cap
ture fur that must not be lost, and after soms
dickering, Pat agreed to pilot them to the nest
for three dollars. After trudging through the
woods about one mile, the party came to a clear
ing where stood a leg house. With a horrible
Milesian grin, he pointed to an old woman and
five young imps lying loose about the main floor,
exclaiming : See the tame crathurs! Mee.
Patrick Pox, these buntors are after yez! Good
day, gintlemon.” The hunters got back to the
depot too late for tho train that jay, nut they ar
rived home all sale the next morning. It is un
necessary to mention, however that it is not to
them that we are indebted for the above fact.
Pleasant things in life are usually considered
rare, but from the annexed, one would judge
that there are many things
WOHTH I.TVINO FOB.
“ When from my room I chance to stray, to
spend an hour at close of day, I ever find tho
place most dear, where some friend treats to la
ger beer.— Sacramento Age.
“Ah! yes, my friend, of city life, sure such a
treat cures euch a strife, but better than such
dcee by far, are pleasures of a fine cigar Pla-
cer Berald.
“ Such pleasures may suit baser minds, but
with tbe good no favor finds; we think the pur
est joy of lite, is making love to one’s own wife.
Volcano Ledger.
*’ Meet wise your choice, my worthy friend, in
Hymen’s joys your cares to end, but we, though
tired of single life, can’t Ixiaet of having our own
wife ; and so, when *neath our cares we faint, we
fly to kies some gal that ain’t—yet— j\’apa Re
porter.
“That ‘lager beer’ will bile provoke, while
‘ fine Havanas’ end in smoke. To court ono’e
wifeis better far than lager beer or vile cigar.
Kisses, the dew of love’s young morn, break on
tbe lips as toon as born. These all are nanglit
to that great joy—the first glance at your first
born boy I— Evening Ledger.
“ ’Tie true, a boy’s a wished-for blessing, but
then suppose the first a girl 1 A dear sweet child
with ways caressing, with pouting lips and flax
en curl, with dimple cheeks and laughing eye. to
er me and bid ‘ papa’ good-bye! So whether boy
or whether t'other, ombtace the babe aud then
the mother.”— San Francisco Globe.
Speaking of babies—many )>eople complain of.
the difficulty experienced in obtaining a supply
of juveniles.
Various causes are frequently assigned there
for, and it is said that novel methods are often
adopted to remedy the deficiency. What wonder
then that the hero of the following anecdote
found himself in a predicament while engaged
at tbe arduous task of
GETTING CinLDBBN FOB “ MEDEA.”
You have, of course, dear reader (if you read
this at all), heard of Ed Trover, actor, editor,
manager, and one of the spiciest writers in the
West. If not, yon are behind the age. “ Every
body and liis wife,” the “ rest of mankind,” and
other individuals “ too numerous to mention,”
know Ed. Some months ago he was managing
a small dramatic company at the pretty little
city of Evansville, Ind. The company was very
popular with the citizens, no less socially than
professionally, andno gathering for pleasure was
considered complete unless the “theatre folks”
were there. “ Our hero” is one of those individ
uals who have the happy faculty of turning their
hands to anything and would always pitch in and
do a thing himself rather than waste the time
necessary for its accomplishment in explaining
the requisite process to some subordinate.
One afternoon Ed. was present at the werkling
of beautiful Dora L—e, daughter of Judge L—e,
ex-mayor of tne city. Of course, a “goodlie
company” was assembled, and in the hilarity in
cident to such an occasion, Ed. came near for
getang that the “ celebrated Greek tragedy” of
“ Medea” was up for that night, and that he had
volunteered to relieve the property man of the
trouble of hunting up the two children required
in the piece—that worthy being a stranger in the
place, while Ed. relied upon his extensive ac
quaintance to enable him to obtain the “juve
niles” without difficulty. Tho remembrance of
bia “ props” suddenly flashed across his mind,
and he arose and hurriedly made his excuses,
for the afternoon was far advanced, and he had
no time to lose. As a matter of courtesy, he was
prtesed to remain ; but the calls of business were
peremptory, and he was forced to leave. In re
ply to the urgent appeals to liim to remain from
a bevy of fair damsels who had crowded around
him, remarked—“ Ladies, I should ba happy, very
happy, to enjoy your excellent society—to bask
in the sunlight of your smiles longer thie even
ing, but I have premised to get tivo children for
Medea to-night, and I must go.” Of course, the
ladies beat a precipitate retreat, looking horrified,
when it euddeuly occurred to Ed. that they were
not well posted in theatrical matters, and might
have mistaken bis meaning. He did not stop to
explain, however, but mule a speedy retrogade
movement.
To change the subject, here is a laughable in
cident said to have occurred at the siege at Fort
Sumter, going to show that a man may see
something amusing in the most
SEBIOUS SUBJECTS.
One day in mailing my hospital rounds, says
an army surgeon, a patient jnst arrived present
ed an amputated forearm, and in doing so oould
scarcely restrain a broad laugh; the titter was
constantly on his face. “ What is the mat
ter? This does uot strike me as a subject of
laughter.” “It is not, doctor ; but excuse me—
-1 lost my arm in so funny away, that I still
laugh when I look at it.” “What way?” “Our
first surgeon wanted shaving, and got me to at
tend to it, as I am corporal. We went together
to the front of his tent. I had lathered him,
took him by the nose, and I was just about ap
plying the razor, when a cannon ball came, and
that was the last I saw of his head and my ar m.
Fxcuse me, doctor, for laughing so. I never saw
euch a thing before.”
Tbe eloquence of certain Western orators
should not be permitted to pass unrecorded. An
impassioned burst occurs in an extract which we
make from
A SPEECH OF OBNEKAT. BELEY.
Mu. Spkakkb : Everybody is a pitching Into
this matter like toad frogs into a willow swamp,
on a lovely evening in the balmy month of June,
when the mellow fight of the full moon fills with
a delicious flood the thin, etherial atmospheric
air. [Applause.] Sir, I want to put in a word,
or perhaps a word and a half. There seems to
be a disposition to fight. I say, if there is any
fighting lobe done, come on with your corn-cobs
arid lightning-bugs! [Applause.] In the lan
guage of tbe ancient Boman,
•• Come one, come ail, this rock shall Sy
From its linn bare—in a pig’s eye.”
Now, there has been a great deal of bombast
here, to-day. I call it bombast from “Alpha” to
“Omega.” (I don’t understand the meaning of
tbe words, though.) Sir, the question to rarer,
re a great and magnificent question. It is the
all-absorbing question—like a sponge, Sir—a
large unmeasurable sponge, of globe shape, in a
email tumbler of water—it eueks up everything.
Sir, I stand here with the weapons I have desig
nated, to defend the rights of St. Louis county,
the rights of any other county—even the county
of Cedar itself. [Laughter and applause.] Sir,
the debate has aesurned a latitudinosity. We
have had a little black-jack buncombe, a little
two-bit buncombe, bombast buncombe, bunghols
bunermbe, and the devil and his grandmother
knows what other kind of buncombe. [Laugh
ter. | Why, Sir, jnst give some of ’em a little
Southern 'soap and a little Northern water, and
quicker than a hound imp can lick a skillet, they
will make enoegh buncombe lather to wash the
goldcmflcck that roams abroad the aznre meads
ofßewen. [Cheers aud laughter.] I allude to
tbe etarry firmament.
The Speaker—The gentleman is out of order.
Ho meet confine himself to the question.
Mr. Biley—Just retain your linen if you please.
I’ll stick to the text as close as a pitch plaster to
a pine plank, or a lean pig to a hot jam rock,
[(fees of “Go on,” “You'll do.”] I want to say
to thcee carboniferous gentlemen, these igneous
individuals, these detonating demonstrators,
the ee pereginuons volcanoes, come on with your
combustibles! If I don’t—-well. I’ll suck the
Gulf of Mexico through a goose qnill. [Laugh
ter and applause.] Perhaps you think I am
diminutive tubers and eparse in the mundane
elevation. You may discover, gentlemen, you
are laboring under as great a misapprehension,
as though you had incinerateel yonr inner vest
ment. In the language of tho noble bard,
’• I wap not born in a thicket
To be scared by a exicket.”
[Applause.] Sir, we have lost our proper posi
tion. Our proper position is to the zanith and
nadir—out heads to the one, onr heels to the
other, at right angle with the horizon, spanded
by that azure arc of the lustrous firmament,
bright with tho eorroscations of innumerable
constellatiosß, and proud as a speckled stud
horse on a county court day. [Cheers.] “Bat
how have the mighty fallen!” in the language of
the poet Silversmith. We have lost our proper
position. We have assumed a eloshindicular or
a diagonologieal position. And what is tbe
cause? Echo answers, “Buncombe,” Sir, “Baa
combe.” The people have been fed on banoombs,
■ while & lot of BBavined, rtng-boaed, haul strung,
I wind galled, sw>ne-ejed, split-hoofed, distemper
ed, poll-eviled, pot-bellicu politicians have had
their noses in the public crib until there ain't
fodder enongb left to make a gruel for a sick
grasshopper. [Cheers and laughter.] Bir, these
hungry brats keep tugging at the public pap.
*lbe* say, “Let down your milk, SncKy, or you <i
have a split bag.” Do they think they can stuff
ench buncombe down our eraw? No, Sir; you
might as well try to stuff butter in a wild cat
with a hot awl. [Continued laughter.] lhe
thing can’t be did.
An old contributor again makes his appear
ance in our midst, with some
OBSERVATIONS BY AN OBSERVER.
Briggs and I have traveled so long together
that 1 can put up with most anything from him.
liven his jokes and sells, though rude and what
our- brethren in the South (“ wayward sisters’)
call brusA, can be swallowed, because, as a gen
eral thing, Briggs means well. His errors are of
the head, not of the heart. They lie underhie
hat, not his watch. The other day, he took me
down twice running. We were traveling near
Sandwich, Canada, near the place where Morris
originated that horrible Masonic joke ef anent
the black balls, and Briggs called my attention to
a group of culled pussens standing in front of
a shanty that looked as if it had been put up by
accident. Said Briggs : “ Why is it so natural
that the negro race should think a great deal of
themselves ?” I guessed several times. On ac
count of their ornamental heels ? No! Of their
loud perfume ? Nery! Of their two-inch
skulls ? No ! Of their curvilinear shin-bones ?
No ! Give it up 1 Because they are a nigger
tislical race ! (an egotistical I!) Now, such a
conundrum as that isn’t worth while. I never
did do anything so mean. But Briggs got ns
again. He was groaning with something or
other about hie jawbone, which was ew-ilo-i un
til ho locked se if he chawed tohaoe... 8. 1
asked him if it wasn’t erysipelas ? This was
enough. He took off the bandage, winked as
much as to say, “ Now I have got you 1” and an
ew ered, “No,’tie too low down for thatl” im-
Pljteg. a® he explained to ma afterward, that it
was not the ear-esypelas, but something or other
about the jaw / Tnese are the things that tend
to softening of the brain. lam thankful that,
though I have associated some with Bob ,
I have never become infected with this vile habit
of punning. And if the Court understands her
self (and the thinks she do), I never shall.
An old English writer says that
marrying a wife is like fishing for an eel in a
barrel of snakes! The eel-pot pats one in mind
of a practice in Java. They expect a mau to
“ go to pot” when he marries, for if you see an
empty liower-pot standing out on tire portieo
roof, it means that there is a single woman in
the house who desires to connubialise. In short,
it. is an advertisement, and signifies ” Husband
Wanted.”
A Sutday-fechool scholar at Ak
ron, a lad of eleven, on being requested, with
other members of his class, to repeat from the
Bible a verse of his own selecting, promptly gave
the following: “If any one attempts to haul down
the American flag, shoot him on the spot.”
One of “onr girls,’’ who is ear
nestly striving to obtain light, asks the meaning
of the “ G” in masonic emblems, and asks if it
doesn’t mean “girls;” “for,” says she, “you
can’t get along without them somewhere in your
institution.” She is right.
“ Which is the best shop to get
a fiddle al?” asked a pupil of Tom Cooko, the
musician. “An apothecary's shop,” answered
the wag; “ because if you buy a drug there, they
always give you a vial in.”
" Well, how do you find yourself
after Thanksgiving ?” we inquired of our friend,
the inveterate, a day or two since. “ Pretty well,
though I’m 11oublcd a little with a fowl stom
ach,” he replied.
“ Mr. Jenkins,” said a tradesman
at Sydney to a recent arrival there, “ will it suit
you to settle that old account of yours ?” “ No,
sir; you a) e mistaken in the man. lam not one
of the old settlers.”
—■Upon the marriage of Miss Wheat,
of Virginia, a gentleman hoped that her path
might be jU/icery and that sue might never be
thrashed by her husband.
“ Where are you going asked
a little boy of another who had just slipped and
fallen down on an icy pavement. “ Going to gel
up,” was the blunt reply.
“That was greedy of you, Tom
my, to cat your little sister’s share of cake.”
“Sou told me, ma, I was always to take her
part,” said Tommy.
A lady, speaking of the gather
ing of lawyers, to dedicate a new court-house,
said she supposed they had gone “ to view the
ground where they must shortly lie.”
Miss Tucker says it’s with bache
lois as with old wood; it is hard to got them
started, but when they do take flame they burn
prodigiously.
A lady in Germany lately gave
birth to four daughters at once. Her husband
fled.
The Bowery Boy’s advice—if yon
want, to enjoy Hfe, drop poetry and gale al
together, and join a fire company in the army.
What’s the difference between
your great coat and a baby ? Answer: One you
wear and the other you were.
A vocalist says he could sing
" Away down on the Old Tar River,” if he could
only get the “ pitch.”
gqnu’tnwnf.
Fashions Abroad— Our readers will
tie interested in the subjoined jottings from the pen of a
London correspondent: I do not know if the fair readers
ci y cur journal have as yet had a foretaste of the winter
fashions, but here we already see what they will be.. In
Ibe first place let me attempt a description of the hair; I
do not know the technical name for that hideous style of
rolling the hair into two great twists on each side of the
partirg, but the present fashion is even worse, for Instead
oi dividing the hair in the centre a roll or puff Is placed
there, doing away with the parting ; the rolls are contin
nued down to the ears, behind which an enormous friz
projec ts like an elongated curl in a fit Ths hack hair is
bowed, that is. tied up like a horse’s tail. Blondes will
please take notice that this resplendent fashion oscasion
ally reminds the hypercritical of a bunch ot haystack
into a bag with holes m it. and to do a vay with this re
semblance thev should carefully pin all inevitable puffs,
pads or factitious supports whatsoever ont of sight I
dwell rather upon the doing away with the parting of the
hair because I suspect the Empress Eugenie must be get
tit g bad, elee why push all the hair on the top of the
head, why so many styles only admirable in concealing
the los< of the hair? Another way is that of cutting ail
the front hair frhoit and square across tho forehead and
curling it in little ringlets. This « not so bad, and is even
prcVyll the hair curls naturally. Neither English nor
Fiei cb ladies ss a rule have good hair, hence thu abomi
nable custom ot wearintr so much fake hair. It is a nlty
that all people should follow the same fashions, whether
becoming or not The dresses of today area strange
cross between those of the seventeenth, eighteenth and
nineteenth centuries. An ugly fashion is that of wearing
the broad old-fashioned bands and large buckles. The
ccat s’eeve has entirely superseded the broad hanging
sleeves. I presume the aforesaid Emprew must have
dragged off the tea-pot with her wide sleeves and scalded
the Emperor’s knees on some occasion, and thus led to a
command to diminish tho size of the sleeves. Crinolines
are not decreasing. The bonnet is now worn as a cap,
and as small almost The former “spoon” bonnet, as i:
was well named, has whirled about, that is to say,
the spoon formerly stood above the head, but now
II you can imagine tire handle of ‘a hjxkhi broken off
and the souare part lying flat on a woman’s face and
the small under the chin, yon will have the exact shape
of our winter bonnet. It is worn entirely without a cur
tain. which is in order to show the trues of hay or horsa’s
fail before mentioned. A small, prettv bow ot ribbon or
velvet droops over the back, artfully concealing the ab
sence of the curtain cr cape. In the spring they say that
no bonnet strings will be worn; how the bonnet will be
fastened I leave the forthcoming spring to expand The
prevailing color is red, the bonnets being black and trim
med with red. Cloaks Ido not believe will ba worn at
all by fashionable people. Nothing is yet seen, at all
events, but the little short jacket or-Jante en basque,
made of velvet, for the cold, seal skin and Asfracau furs,
tbe latter being called “Great St. Bernard.” Trimmings
are ail worn flat, folds having succeeded flounces and
braid and guimp. frills and puffs. Beyond this we have
as y et nothing new in London in the modes.
Lady Officers of the English Court.
—An English paper gives the following item in relation to
the ladies of the royal household of Queen Victoria: “The
Mistress of the Robes is an office of great importance, and
one of the best in the gift of the Ministry. The duties dis
tingubh the holder above all others—for instance, that of
riding in the royal carriage on all state occasions, and
robirg the Queen at the ceremonials of importance,
though the actual manipulation connected with the duties
of the Mistress of the Robes is usually performed bv at
tendants on the person of the Sovereign. Groom of the
Stole was rather a curious office to attach to that of Mis
tress of the Relies, but requisite when a female was on the
throte The Stole is a narrow vest, embroidered with
roses, peurs delis and crowns, ar d lined with sarsenet.
Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, held both of these offices
•in the reign of Queen An*e,and fo did the Duchess of
Somerset The salary was then £BflO, and is now £SOO par
annum. The Ladies of the Bedchamber—the duties are
connected with all things appertaining to the royal sleep
ing and di easing apartments, of which they have complete
superint' rdence and control, as well, also, of the apparel
ol the Queen. The Bedchamber women are seven in
number, and their salaries and duties are similar to ths
Ladlesof the Bedchamber. Maias of Honor are of ancient
dates and of considerable importance. Thev were always
well paid and well cared for by roya’ty. Their duties are
to attend to the Queen—the turn of the eight ladies being
recording to an order drawn up each year. The salary is
£Xt) per annum.
Strange Mode of Choosing a Wife.—
That charming French writer Madame Emile de Girar
din, gives this advice to bachelors: “O, yon feeling
hearts, who are dreaming of a choice of a companion,
never decide, never, before having tried the proof of the
country dance 1 All your futurity depends upon it. But
do not mistake ; we are rot treating hero of the country
dance that is danced, but of the country dance that *3
played. In the country, if people wish to diuco and
waltz, it is young girls who one afar another, come to
occupy the p’ano. Look at them well: observe them
well, end intrust without hesitation your baopiness to her
who shall have played her quadrille the most perfectly.”
Sbe who is not perhaps the most brilliant, bat whose play
ing neverthek ss betrays real talent, gentleness, ftoenass
and the most unscrupulous correctness, grace and precis
ion.
The perfect performance. It is a trait of character ; no
heedtessness nothing forgotten. Believe ns, ajk that young
lady very quicklv in marriage, for a woman wbo ntavs
country dances with care, taste, attentive complaisance
and delicate judgment is a treasure. She wil be a good
*ifo, a gcod mother, a good housekeeper, and one may
warn Ik r with his eyes shut?’ We trust tnose young
feminine performers whose highest aim seems to be that
<4 murdering the music and the piano and martyring
sensitive ears will make a note ot the above, for per
chance the !ma>cnlines in consideration may resolve to
bet dit themselves. If we are to believe as another fe
male writer affirms ‘ that woman’s natural aspiration is
jrairimony” it must nectssaiily be of vital interest to her
to tea™ fhe mow efficient and reliable methods for cap*
turirgher game.
Poiibh Wcmen. —A kindly tourist
makes this mention of the women of Poland: “As to Po
lish women, who are spoken of in such disparaging tones
all ever Germany, I can only say that after long experi
ence of their charade's, under ordinary and extraordi
nary circumstances, I no longer wonder at the influence
they exercise over the men. They are not precisely
chaimlrg, like French women, or fascinating, like the
women of Spain or Italy; but there is an indefinable
something about them which renders them irresis ioly
interesting I shall perhaps best express my meaning
when J say that you find In them all those qualities which
are summed up in the one word ‘women.’ And here I
»m i.-ot speaking of any particular class but Polish women
ip general, bo they the wives or daughters of the owners
of a honored thousand acres, or of the manager of a small
farm, or of a processor, doctor, or tradesman. It may ba
that their tenderness of character was brought out to an
unusual degree by their commonest occu oation of last
year, which consisted of tending the sick and wounded ;
but I can only say that the general impression which I
have carried away with me is this, that the trouble of a
Journey to Poland would be amply repaid by the pleasure
of studying womanhood in its interesting development
there.” To this let us add that no women have endured
more cr suffered ro deeply from privation, bereavement,
and the woes, ilia and insolence of tyranny and oppres
sion. Ar d still their sacrifices and tribulations have not
yet ended nor will'so long as cruelty reigns dominant In
Russian 1 earts, and the spirit of liberty and independence
lives in those of Poland.
The Ancient Beaux. —We question
wbetl er the celebrated Beau Brummel and equally cele
brated Romeo Coates, were not mere Quakers in their
drefs. compared with some of the distinguished dressers of
the former days. Sir Walter Raleigh wore a white satin
pinked ve»t. dore .-•gv< d to the wrist; over the body a
brow i- <!*. üblet. i > flowered and embroideerd with
peans. In the i< aiuex ot hte hat, a large ruby and pearl
drop at the bottom of the sprig, in place of a button; hts
trunks, or breeches, with his stockings or ribbon garters,
fringe a at the end with white, and buff shoes with white
ribbi n. On great court d ays his shoes were so gorgeously
covered with precious stones as to have exceeds! the
value of £C,bOt); and he had a suit of armor of solid silver,
with a sword ai d belt blazing with diamonds, rubies and
pearls. King James’favorite, the Duke of Buckingham,
could afford io have h’s diamonds tacked so loosely on,
it at when he chose to shake a few off on the ground, h 3
obtained all the lama he dtalrcd from the pickers up, who
were generally les Dames de la Cour; for our Duke
never condescend!d to accept wbat he himself had
dropped. His cloaks were trimmed with great diamond
hat bands, cockadee ana ear rings, yoked with great robes
and knots of pearls. He had twenty-seven suits of clothes
made of the richest that embroidery, lace, ailk. velvet,
silver, gold and gems could contribute; one of which was
a white uncut velvet, set over both suits and cloak, with
diamords, beside a great feather, stuck all over with
diamonds, as were aiso his sword, girdle, hat and spurs.
Dribs’. —With rare exceptions, the
whole human race are unanimous in the adoption of one
method to produce favorable impressions upon each
other—namely, an attention to personal appearance the
fashion, or propriety, or becomlDgnoes, or neatness, or
splendor of their habiliments. The effects of dress are in
deed of unquestionable importance. It typifies a man’s
position in society; it indicates his taste. A perfectly suit
able dress is a patsport almost everywhere. Wealth or
worth ill atiircd is usually ill received. The man who
dresses in a sty le below his place and circumstances must
expect to meet many a mortifying rebuff. Some philoso
phers end men of genius have been great slovens, and
have affected to consider attention lo personal appear
ance as effeminate or foolish This mistake is 1-ss com
mon than it used to be and most of our literati now dress
Hl e gentlemen. A person dressed with propriety may
tave hinotelf from the ridicule and slights and humilia
lions to which ill-axessed merit is hourly exposed. Among
strangers dress is the only criterion of a man’s title to
consideration.
Wcman’b Life. —Says a philosopher:
“The lives of women are necessarily more broken up
into details than are lives of men. The existence of the
housewife comprises a perpetual adaptation of skill to
exigencies of the moment- ‘ Accidents will happen in the
best of regulated families ’ says the old proverb ; snow
ing that a household never can, arrange it as you will, be
a mere routine ; and when to tho skill of the housewife
is added the culture of the reasonable being, and the
crewning duties ot the Christ an, the result is very com
plex. The life of an educated woman, though worked
out in a much smaller sphere, is generally more complex
than that oi a man ; just as the ecucation of a girl is olten
mere complex than ilia* of Yale or Harvard. It H often
remarked that a girl suffers more than a boy by being
brought up in au institution; Nature intends her to do
battle with all sorts cf small duties and difficulties,
charges and char ces: and she becomes stupid and inani
mate if they are all withdrawn.
The r ‘ Autographe” publishea the
fac simile ©1 the following lines, written by Bosrini in the
album of Md’lle Adelina Patil: ‘‘My good Adelina—Noth
thing can be more easy for me than to insert an idea in
yeur album—an idea which fills my head; to cherish you
as an adorable creature, to admire your enchanting
talent, and to be forever yeur friend.—G. Rossini.”
fWrlttenJfor the New York Dispatch.)
RU RAL RHYM ES.
NO. XVU.
WINTER.
By J. Gordon Kmmons.
Another Winter dawns upon our lives!
How quickly seem they all to pass away 1
A y ear has gone with ah its Joys and c&ies,
And we look back upon it as a day.
Once more the snows are spread o’er hill and vate,
And ley fetters bind the chilly streams,
The leafless boughs whine in the wintry blast—
How like tliis old year’s dirge their moaning seems.
A dark, eventful year draws nigh its end—
A year of striie, of war, of heroes slain;
God grant that ere the coming one may elose.
Sweet Peace may smile upon our land again.
We who have health and plenty may rejoice,
And welcome Wimer s gay festivities,
But let ns not forget, amid our jo vs.
The humble poor who are not blessed with thaee.
Let charity end love be in our hearts.
Benevolence will have its great reward;
Jlcnx mber. “Ye who give unto the poor
But lend it unt</Me, r so saiui the Lord.
A Painful Romantic Affair A
Yocxg Lady “Endfavom to Escape tab Obligation of
Matrimony —The residents of a certain highly respecta.
ble portion of the west side, says the Detroit Free Preus
have teen threw n into the most agonizing state of alarm
within the past week by an occurrence at once the most
singular and foreboding that could have transpired.
Mfca , the heroine of thia romantic but distressing af-
fair, a young lady of about eighteen years of age, and a
person of many accomplishments and great personal at
tractions, is the daughter of wealthy' parents moving only
in refined circles, who leside in that Quarter of the city.
Nothing had been spared in the education of the young
lady which could tend to render her an ornament to so
ciety, and nothing upon her part had been omitted which
could indicate, in any degree, the warmth of the grati
tude with which she had ever repaid them for tho tender
solicitude exercised in her behalf. Bo ths young lady’s
life ran on, surrounded with luxury and the kindest In
fluence of affection, until, in an unhappy hour, yielding
lo a glittering temptation, which h&3 too often prevailed
against the imperfect, resistance ot our frail humanity,
have called out a ncble trait in the lady's character not
known to have existed there, and driven her sorrowful
ly, and doubtless with tears, to ibe painful.step which she
has at last taken. A young man of considerable wealth,
a resident of that city, became enamored of the young
lady, bad diJi s ciitly prosecuted his suit for her hand, and
all hough personal ly obnoxious to herself, had by means
of his apparent circumstances succeeded in inpresdng
upon the miods cf her parents the desirableness ot bo aus
picicue a union, and in spite of the young lady’s opposi
tion, the projected match was favored and insisted upon
with all the plausible arguments ueual upon such occa
sions, if not with the additional edict of parental au
thority even. Time wore on, but the matter assumed
no more favorable an aspect. At length the lover be*
came importunate, and nothing seemed able to
prevent the prize falling from their grasp, ex
cept the speedy consummation of the forced engagement.
Accordingly, Tuesday of this week was agreed upon by
the gentleman and the young lady’s parents upon which
to celebrate the nuptials, and the “busy notes of prepa
ration” responded in all parts cf the stately mansion.
There was the usual hurrying to and fro. the visiting of
shops ard attendance u>on the milliners. Upon Monday
evening the bride s wardrobe was completed, and her
rich froiwwau was spread out glittering upon the toilet ta
ble. With many congratulations her parents retired to
rest, happy in the final triumph of their cherished scheme
and in the contemplation of the golden future, which to
moi row’s tua would usher In. fehe too retired, and dur
Ing these melancholy »nd sleepless hours devisod a plan
to bailie them. Early in ti e morning of Tuesday—the
wedding ds y—the yonrg lady expressed a desire to mate
a farewell call upon a very intimate companion, tn a dis
tant part of the city, and accordingly set out to accom
plish her purpose, but has never yet returned. Hour af.
ter hour elapsed, surprise ehanged to wonder in the minds
ef those blinded parents and the deluded bridegroom,
and these in turn gave way to painful anxiety and over,
whelming alaim as the day wanted and the disappointed
gueits with the attending clergyman reluctantly took
their leave, with many condolences and departed from
the house. Messengers weie dispatched in vsln to sesk
intelligence cf the fugitive; her schemes were too well
laid for discovery. Upcn the next morning the police
were made acquainted with the melancholy tale, and the
services of expert detectives brought into requisition.
For days these untiring men, familiar as they are with
every nook and corner of the city, have been at tlnlr
wit’s end in seeking the hiding pla-e of the lady, but to
no purpose. There is abundant evidence, it is said, that
she has not left tbe town, yet, with all the thorough and
determined search which practiced vigilance could de
vise, tbe adroit fugitive cast defiance to her pursuer*.
Our reporter was Informed that the search was given up
in despair. It words fall short in expressing the depth of
the gloom which has overshadowed with its untimely
presence that once happy home, how then can the over
whelming angnjsh of that young and helpless being be
described, whese simple resource is her own noble im
pulse, and whose only protection is her own purity of
heart ai d thought. The matter is a distressing one from
whatever point it is viewed. Time alone can unravel ths
mystery. _
Aitkmited Elopement of a Wife, and
Wf.at Camf of it.— The San Jose Mercury of October 13:h
relates tbe following case of matrimonial unfaithfulness:
Accklente wild happen occasionally in the best regulated
families. Mr®. T. B. Sweeney, a young, flue looking wo
man. residing near Lexington, in this county, took it into
her head to leave her husband and child a few days since,
and ekpe with one J. M. Decker, a’fcw John Miller. The
Sun&M Dee. U.
facts in tbe cose are substantially as follows: Prom a
number of letters from Mrs. Sweeney, found in possession
of Decker, it appears that an intimacy has existed for
some months between those parties. In these letters sho
assures Decker of her undying affection for him, that ha
is her first love, etc , together with any number of en
dearing epithets. On Friday last the arrangements for
the elopement were perfected. Decker engaged one
James Hagtn to assist him in carrying out his plans.
Mrs Sweeney left her child at a neighbor’s and came to
town. The husband, mistrusting that something was
w’roDg,.went m search of his family. While he w&s ab
sent, Decker and Hagan went to Sweeney’s house, broae
in, ind took the wife’s trunk, together with some prop
erty belonging to the husband, and made off with their
body. Their motto seemed to be “beauty and booty.”
Officer Morris was put upon their track. It appears that
Decker has a brother in San Francisco who has also run
efl with another man’s wife. It was his intention lo join
his brother, whence they would proceed together to Ore
gon. He was delayed In this city a day or two in con
verting some securities into cash, staying in tbe meantime
with Mrs. Sweeney at Cameron’s hotel, in Santa Clara,
vrhete they passed as roan and wife. There tbe officer
nabbed him, together with his friend Hagan, and they
were both lodged in jail, charged with robbery and bur
glary. In addition to the letters found in Decker’s pos
session, there w ere a couple of quack pamphlets, contain
ing recipes for love charms, descriptions of magic rings,
and eucn like tomfooleries whereby libertines might gain
the affections of unsophisticated women, and they
couldn’t help themselves! Mrs. Sweeney was greatly
agitated at the arrest of her “feller”—wept and took on
amazingly, acknowledged her guilt, and pleaded forgive
giveness. Her husband refused to see her. B&g&nand
Decker are both lumbermen. They seemed to e&re but
little about secrecy in conducting the affair, having openly
threatened the life of the husband If he attempted to in
terfere. They were brought before Judge Thomas, when
they waived an examination and were sent up.
A Verdant in the Hands of the Pret
-4y Waiteb Girls— George W. Bla'r, a verdant individual
all the way from fcolano county, appeared in the Policq
Court as complainant against Mary Bolt and Roffua Ad
ler, charging them with grand larceny. It seems that he
visited a cellar saloon on the corner of Sacramento and
Montgomery streets, Cal, & few evenings since, and, fas
cinated by the charms and blandishments of tie crowd of
“pretty waiter girls,” returned to the cellar on tho follow
ing evening, having on his person upward of fourteen
hundred dollars in gold. His money was in & beU strap
ped around his waist under his clothes He imbibed sev
eral times, and, as might be expected, became intoxicated.’
He remembered that Mary had taken the liberty of help
ing henelf to seven or eight twenty-dollar pieces from his
belt to pay for wines called for by him. The younger of
the two girls, Rosian, received the money from Mary.
Blair was evidently drugged, or intoxicated on decidedly
bad liquor, as he became unconssious at one time and
remained so for between one and two hours. After be
coming so stupidly drunk that he could not t&ke care of
himself, he was arrested for drunkenness, and hence the
exposuieof the larceny. From the complainant’s state
ment, it seems a great pity that his friends up in Solano
county’ had net placed a guardian over him before allow
ing him to venture io far from home, as he was apparent
ly utterly unfit to take care of himself. He acknowledged
to naving made propositions for certain privileges to M&.
ry, but she was not in tho market at that particular time,
and four of his twenties which were invested'in that spec
ulation were returned to him. He then commenced a
8 ege against the citadel of Rosina’s affections, andithe four
twenties were transferred to her Blair testified that he
“bated women generally, an! never desired their com
pany.” Butin this case they were too heavy for him.and
he was obliged to succumb to their smiles and graces.
Judge Shepherd held the defendants to answer before the
County Court.
A Sad and Painful Case of Sdicibb.
—A Fathir’s Cviisf.— The Grand Havon cf recent
date, details tbe following particulars of a monrnfiil sui
cide: “A terrible sad affair took place at the Milwaukie
House, in this village, on Thursday morning, Sept L A
Mrs. Lucinda Gage arrived by the night express train,
crossed the river about six o’clock, went to a drag star®
and bought some strychnine, saying she wanted to kill
rats. She then went to the Milwaukie House, where she
sat awhile to warm herself, and then called for a room,
and writing materials. She bad been in the room but a
short time, when some one parsing found the door ajar,
and the woman lying on tbe ground. On being asked
what was the matter, »h» replied she had taken poison to
kill herself—her husband had abused her and her father
had turned her out of doors, and she could net live. Phy
sicians were at once called, but it was too late. Ju a very
short time the was dead. Tbe tollowing letter, which she
had just written, was found on the stand in her room:
Grand Hz vrn, Sept X 1861.
D<ar Father and Mother— This will be the last you win
hear from me. I shall be cola in death, oh, God» have
mercy on my soul! When you look on this think kindly
of me. Oh. God! how can I take my life? Icaa’tlive
with a father’s curse on my head Oh, God II am tor-
and lef> to die alone. Mother, I want to s&e you be
fore I leave this unfriendly worla. Tell my dear Joseph
hat I have thought ot him all the time. He has been
cruel to me 1 forgive him, and long to die in bis arm*-
Fathei. mother, sister, brother, farewell. Soon you will
ook upon a lifeless lump of ciay. God have mercy upon
me.
Fend my corpse to my father, to Flint, Ganesee county,
Mk.-h. My father’s name is Samuil Wickham.
Mrs Lucinda Gags.
Clinton, Genesee Go.. Mich., 10 miles from Flint.
A telegram was tent to her fat&er, and tbe answer re
turned was, “ Bury Lucinda Gage, and I will see that the
expenses are paid.”
Desperate Attempt to Commit Suicide
—Jane Smith, aged 52, who gave her address No B 3 Sta
fctieet, Paddington, London, was charged before the Hon.
G. C. Norton with making a desperate attempt at self
destruction by placing herself between the melala on the
London, Chatham and Dover Railway just as a train was
approaching. Mr. Church, solicitor to the railway, at
tended from the company, and from Ills statement ft
appeared that about two o’clock on the day before the
prisoner got over a paling about four feet high, akoat a
mile from the Herne Hili station, and stood between the
metals on the down line as a train was approaching. The
engine driver, in proceeding from the Herne Hill station
to the Victoria station, fortunately saw the prisoner at
about two hundred yards' distance, and instantly reversed
the engine and called out to put the break on, ami by the
greatest possible exertion was enabled to bring the train
to a standstill when only a yard from the prisoner. The
prisoner was removed from the metals and given into the
custody of a police constable Mr Church added that had
not the driver of the er.f ine observed her so soon, or had
the prisoner gone to the place in twilight, nothing could,
have saved her from immediate destruction. The prison
er, in reply to the charge, said she was in a state of great
destitution, and unable to get any employment as a laun
dress, and this was the cause o»' her conduct. In reply to
the questions of the magistrate, the prisoner admitted,
that she had not given her right name, and obs iuately
refused to give the names or addresses of her friends or
acquaintanees. Mr. Norton remanded her for a week, to
give time to make the necessary inquiries about her.
A lu an Charged on Eis Own Con-
FBBSION WITH BEING THE MURDERER OY MR. BRlGGS.—'fbom
as Pitwell, aged 58 years, described as a carpenter and
bedstead maker, residing at King’s road, St Fancras, was
charged as follows : Cfilcer Cooper said he was on duty
iu the King’s cross road, when he saw the prisoner, who
was the worse for liquor, haranguing a large crowd. He
said that Muller was innocent, and that he was tbe man.
who had killed Mr. Briggs. He asked the prisoner to go
away, but he would not do bo, and as he caused a great
disturbance by Htatirg that he was a murderer, he took
him into custody. At the police station he said he was the
murderer of Mr. Briggs. The prisoner said fee was sorry
for w hat he had done, but he should not have said what
he did had he not been the worse lor liquor. Mr. D Eyn -
court said the conduct of the prisoner was very foolish
and reprehensible. He would have to pay a fine of ss, or,
in default, he would have to go to prison for five days.
The prisoner paid the fine.
In the Wrong Bed.— A man who is
known as Sammy,was severely beaten by Mr. Thos. Urad
en, on Wednesday evening, in Columbia. Oae eye was
knocked out, his jaw broken ia two places, and several
boles punched in his head. There are several stories
about the cause, oae cf which is, that Braden, who re
turned from Virginia City the night before, caaght Sam
my in bed with his wife. The other is, that Sammy had
been occupying Braden’s place in B’s bed for some time
past, and also amused himself with beating B.’b wife; and.
that, on the night of the beating, Sammy knocked at B’s.
door after B. and his wife had retired. Braden opened
the door, and ilnmediately commenced knocking the
knocker, damaging Sammy as above stated. So much for
not knowing that wives are private property.
The Mystebies of Florence. By George
lippard author of “ The Quaker City, or, tbe Monks of
Monk Hall,” etc., etc. Fred. A Brady, publisher.
This is an extremely sensational noveL It is replete
with incidents consplricies, murder, arson, lliotcy. re
venge, love, and in a single phrasa horrors of every Ima
ginable kind. If you would “sup on horrors” read Lip
paru's “ Mysteries of Florence ” It is but fair to add that
there are many powerfully written passages, among
much that is strange and fantastic, in the romance—pas
sages that will vie with tome oi the most celebrated in
Bulwer Lytton’s Zanmd. But, we leave those who de
light in that style of romance, which makes the blood
curdle in the veins, and the hair stand on end like quills
upon tbe fretful porcup-ne. to read the “Mysteries of
Florence.”
The Constable of the Tower. A No
vel. By William Harrison Ainsworth, E>q.. author of
“ The Tower of Loncon ” “ Ola St. Paul,” “The Spend
thrift,” etc. kicx &. Fitzgerald.
“The Constable of the Tower” is strictly htstorical. It
opens with with the last sickness of Henry tbe Eighth,
and introduces among its leading characters many of the
distinguished personages ot his time. We have not whol
ly j erased this romance, but have read enough ©f it to
convince us in saying It adheres closely to history. Its
pictures of the manners and customs of the early half of
the sixteenth century are finely drawn, and are well
worth Btudyiig. To the romantic part of tne tale w®
will not allude. We leave that undisturbed to the reader.
It is sufficient to say that he will be agreeably enter
tained.
The Friend cf Progress. Monlhly.
December, 1864. C. M. Plumb k Co, aud American
News Agency, publishers.
This new publication is designed to advocate progress ill
the moral, physical and intellectual worlds. The articles
are carefully written and, wc may add, are the produe
ticns of some of our most profound thinkers. It of course,
can not pretend to a circulation among miscellaneous
readers, but, we apprehend, there will be found minds
eneugh in tbe community who will see in tha Frienl of
Progress a noble Instructor, and will uphold it accord
ingly.

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