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W. J. WRICOLES WORTH, Editor and Proprietor.
VOL IV. DANIEL GUAY. Ir 1 rliall win thq home In heaven For who*e sweet rest I humbly hope and pray. In the crcat c*inj)ny of the forgiven I xftaU be sure to ilnd old Daniel Gray. I knew him well: lu fact, few knew him better: For my young eyes oft read for him the Word, And saw how meekly from the crystal letter He drank the life of his beloved Lord. Old Daniel Gray was not a man who lifted On ready words his freight of gratitude. And was not called upon among the gifted. In the prayer-meetings of hia neighborhood. He had a few old-fashioned words and phrases. Linked in with sacred texts and Sunday rhymes-: And, I suppose, that, in his prayers and graces. I've heard them all at least a thousand times. 1 see him now his form, and face, and motions, llis homespun habit, and his silver hair— And hear the language of his trite devotions Rising behind the straight-backed kitchcn-chair. I can remember liow the sentence sounded- j • Help os. O Lord, to pray and not to faint! " And $ bow the •* tonquering^tnd-t*conquer' - rounded a* The loftier aspirations of the saint. He had some notions that did not improve him. He never kissed his children—so they say; And finest scenes and fairest flowers would move him Less than a horseshoe picked up in the way. He had a hearty hatred of oppression. And righteous words for sin of every kind ; Alas, that the transgressor and transgression Were linked so closely in his honest mind ! He could see nought hut vanity in beauty, And nought but weakness in a fond caress. And pitied men whose views of Christian duty Allowed indulgence in such foolishness. Yet there were love and tenderness within him; And 1 am told, that, when his Charley died. Nor Nature's need nor gentle words could win him From his fond vigils at the sleeper's side. 6 And when they came to bury little Charley. They found fresh dew-drops sprinkled in his hair. And on his breast a rose-bud gathered early. And guessed, but did not know, who placed it there. Honest lyxi faithful, constant in his calling. Strictly attendant on the meuns of grace. Instant in prayer, and fearful most of falling Old Daniel Gray was always in his place. A practical old man and yet ft dreamer. He thought that in some strange, unlooked-for way, His mighty Friend in heaven, the great Redeemer, . Wsnild honor him with wealth some golden day. This dream he carried in a hopeful spirit Until in death his patient eye grew dim. And his Redeemer called him to inherit The heaven of wealth long garnered up for him. So. if I ever win the home in heaven For whose sweet rest I humbly hope and pray. In the great company of the forgiven I shall be sure to find old Daniel Gray. —,/. O'. Holland. PtettUnay. SOLD. I h ate a steamboat. I don’t mean particularly our own steamboat—it we may call it our own. That takes only its rateable proportion of the hatred which I distribute over the en tire steam navy of the universe. I hate everything which bears the name of steamboat. This feeling I at once allow to be perfectly irrational, but that is not the question. My antipathies are based on a set of circumstances which I shall be happy—at least, which I have no objection —to tell, if you will accept them as my contribution to the narrative pic-nic of the evening. My avocation is that of a solicitor. Now lam a middle-aged man; but at the time I speak of I was seventeen years younger than I am at present. I don't know whether any of you have ever been at Orsova. Nobody claims ac quaintance with that place ? Very well, you have lost nothing; but, of course, you all know where it is. However, to pre vent mistakes, 1 will mention that it is on the Danube, before you get down to the Iron Gate, and that you stop there to be put into wagons, and conveyed along the left bank until you reach Skela G ladova, where lie the big steamers for the Black Sea. Some business at Odessa took me down the Danube to Orsova, whence I proposed to go into Galatz, where the Russian vessel awaited me. The business does not bear upon my story. 1 was then the junior member of the firm of which I am now the head, and I can afford to say that I had not then buckled to work with the ear nestness which my partners might have liked to see. They could, at all events, very well spare me for the six weeks’ trip; and though it was not, perhaps, exactly flattering to be told that I could not do better than undertake the Odessa affair, instead of leaving it to a clerk, I put up with the implied hint, and went away in excellent spirits. I had never traveled much, and was glad of the opportunity of going where comparatively few English men went in those days. Avery short time afterwards, you know, came inci dents which sent thousandsofEnglislnnen into those parts, many of them never to return; but in the year of which I speak most of us would have thought a war with Russia as unlikely as three years ago we thought a war with Abyssinia. You can all see for yourselves that I am gray, and that my figure is not that of a lady-killer. But at the time I speak of I was a reasonably good-looking young fel low. with probably as much consciousness of the fact as was good for me. I have now a son of whom the same things may be said. Well, the steamboat journey from Vi enna, where I left the railway, had amused me a good deal. I won’t trouble you with the slightest description of Dan ube scenery—probably some of you have got Mr. Murray’s “South Germany” in your trunks, or if not, you can get it w hen you go home, if my story interests you up to the point of wishing to know more of the district. I am not vain enough, now, to suppose that it will. The Danube would be a fine fellow, if he did not try to do so very much, but he is in places preposterously wide, and in others not nearly deep enough. The Iron Gate illustrates the second of his weaknesses— it is a sort of plateau of rock, over which nothing but small craft can go; and those often get wrecked, as happened in the case of an American peddlar, who insisted on rowing through the troubled waters. He had knocked against too many snags, he said to care for the feeble old rocks of the Danube. He went oft’ with all his miscel laneous wares, and was singing at the top of his voice— *■ Hail, Columbia, happy laud 1" w hen his boat was cloven in twain, his wares departed into the waves, and he, providentially caught on a rock, gallantly completed the couplet with a rhyme that may be pardoned for its baldness, but not for its profanity: “ If I ain’t ruined, I'll bed ” and so forth. I had a very good reason for wishing that I had confined myself to hearing stories of that kind on board the boat from Vienna. We were, of course, a miscellaneous company, very unlike the typical repre sentatives whom I have the honor to address. I remember that among the number, which was much too large for comfort, especially at night, was a very handsome Austrian officer, exceedingly happy with his pretty and newly-married wife, a Venetian. He had served at the siege of Venice, and declared that he had captured her there, but she laughingly denied it, and asserted that she had taken ; him prisoner. He was fond of a fleeting great fear should b * .seized as con traband goods from Italy; in fact, he was so joyous that he was an daylong Invent ing some fun in order to keep himself at all in hand. There were a few merry girls, chiefly Venetians, and they were going to Bucharest, for which free and easy place their manners seemed tolerably well fitted, and they much some American ladies by marked fiirta tions, in which there was far more noise than meaning. Their mirth contrasted with the sadness of a feeble-minded old courier, who almost cried when any one spoke to him, his grief being that em ployers did not pay him as they used to do, and that he made nothing by Ills trips. It was very kind of the American family, to whom he was attached to pay him at all, for he was not of the least use, and left them to manage every tiling for them selves. There was a pleasant-i'aced Dane, with a pretty sister. He had be(>n form erly in the Sultan’s service, in the ship building department, but had left it be cause Jus pay was reduced. He was going to Odessa, hut we lost hint at Galatz be cause liis sister’s pass bad not arrived; and although lie bad resided at Odessa for two years, lie was not allowed to vouch for the poor little thing’s narmlessness to the throne of the great Nicholas the First. An American lady called Iter a fleshy girl, but the charge was not true, nor was the epithet gracious. A splendid Alba nian came on board with some Turks, and lighted up the whole deck with his glory. He was stuck all over with fire arms, lmt they did not seem very service able. The Turks said their prayers in their usual attitude, which made some ill-bred, ill-dressed, ill-washed Frenchmen grin; but afterwards, when the chief of the Mohammedans had some coffee made, and kindly sent cups to several of us, and it was found to be deliciously unlike the dingy mess we got in the cabin, there was no toleration for the scoffers, who were a good deal snubbed when they at tempted new sarcasm. There was a fine looking Hungarian, who spoke no language that I knew except Latin, which we bar barized fearfully together, my English pronunciation thereof not helping me to his comprehension ; but we , r ot on some how. I just mention these people because it appears that avc are in no particular lmrryj and you may like a general idea of the company on board the Danube boats, I was the only Englishman. During the voyage, which occupied many days, owing to the difficulty of navigation, our occasional transfer into abominable barges, and the exceeding indolence of the rowers and apathy of the captain—by the way, one of the Americans had fully made up his mind, lie said, to shoot that officer for mooring us at places Avhere avc could get no food—l cold him I thought he had better not, but I avus almost sorry Avhen lie consented to stay execution. During the voyage, I say, I talked to every body avlio could or Avould talk to me, and I flattered myself that I was becoming a very accom plished cosmopolitan. Among those Avhom I specially honored in this Avay Avasavoung lady aa'lio Avas traveling with her husband, a man much older than herself. They had come from London. She Avas Polish, he was an Italian ; and I need not say that to an Englishman they ventured remarks about oppressed nationalities, and their being drawn together by a common mis fortune. Botli spoke English very fairly, and it was'a relief to me to com'erse with them after my conscientious but painful efforts to deliver my sentiments in French. Everybody should learn to. talk French, even at the cost of confounding Pindar with Pindar of Wakefield and the latter with the Vicar. The husband Avas tall, thin and gray, and rather shabbily dressed, a long and rusty great-coat, and a fur eared cap, being the principal features in his costume. He had worn ear-rings, for 1 saAV the holes, but the rings Avere gone: perhaps lie had been compelled to part Avith them, face was rather handsome* for a foreigner’s, and his eyes Avere dark and fine. He Always spoke in a melan choly voice, Avhicli fact I set doAvn to exile and trouble. The lady AA'as what I suppose I should noAV call prettyisli —at that time I thought her very pretty indeed. Plenty of light hair, large blue eyes, and a mouth that seemed always inclined to laugh, but which was restrained, and made to substi tute a pensive half-smile—those are my recollections of the face as I first suay it, ami as I saAV it until tlie time 1 am going to speak of. Ido not knoAv that it mat ters, but I may as Avell add that she Avas rather tall, and Avore a closely-fitting dark cloth dress, which slowed that her figui'e was good hut slight. Her hands and feet a ere not good—she hid the feet as much as she could, but the hands she could not help showing, at dinner-time particularly. It Avas at that meal 1 hat I first spoke to her. It Avas not a romantic introduction, hut it arose out of a little bit of sentiment on my side; for I observed that the vile wine which her husband had ordered--the best lie could afford—Avas distasteful to her, and I ventured to offer them some of mine. Englishman like, I had, of course, selected the most expensive thing to be had, and that was bad enough. They seemed sur prised, but accepted the offer Avith ready good breeding, and avc became traveling friends. I sat near them a good deal on deck, lent the young Avife my rugs and wraps—her own appointments of that kind were scant —and we grew very con fidential. It Avas not a flirtation —let me say that I was an engaged man at tlie time—but they, or at least she, interested me, and I suppose -die Avas pleased with my interest. Tlie husband was more fond of going forward and . moking a huge pipe than of joining in our conversation, but lie was always very civil and melancholy, and accepted my cigars Avitliout any fuss or undue gratitiide. Permit me to say that 1 see what you have made up your minds to hear. The A'ain young Englishman made love to the lady, and the husband resented it, and there was a scene. Nothing of the sort. laa isli that had been the course of events. We could not have fought with deadlv weapons, and if he had tried to thrash me, he would not have succeeded. But there was no love-making. I thought a good deal about a lady in England, who Is now, I fear, particularly anxious because the Aveather is so bad, and she does not know how very comfortable her husband is, and in what pleasant society. The DODGEVILLE, WISCONSIN, FRIDAY, MAY 22, 1808. Polish lady was quick enough, I dare say, to find out* that my heart was garrisoned— if not, she is the only woman I have ever met who made a mistake on such a point, though 1 have met many who de fied the garrison and tried to storm the citadel. e I should have mentioned that she called her husband C'osnto, and that he called Iter Zinna. This she told me was not her name, but Avas Russian for Winter. The reason for his giving it she hinted that I was not to ask —some love-nonsense L sup posed. The sleeping and toilet arrangements on board that boat were A'ery detestable. We all occupied the huge cabin, from under the seats of Avliiclx sliding.beds were pulled out at night, with the feet pointing centrally. When I say beds, I mean padded boards. Nobody, of course, thought of disrobing; but tve loosened cravats, kicked off shoes, and otherwise made ourselves a little easy. There was frightful snoring in that hot den. With the first daAvn I used to rush out of it, go up on deck, and, eschewing the hideous lavatory appliances of the cabin, gh r e my self an honest and a freshening Avash in a pail of water newly drawn from the Dan ube by the sailors, avlio indulged my taste for a practice which their laughter showed me was not very usual on tha t vessel. We Avere nearing Orsova early in the morning of the day I am going to speak of, and I bad just completed my a i fresco Wash by the botvs, and Avas looking at the Servian mountains, rich in green, and decked with shifting mist-wreaths — “ Sir,’’ said a voice near me. I turned, and confronted my friend Sig nor Cosmo. T saluted him cheerfully, for Lfelt very,chixviui,-thy rather that we,were .soon to be released front our disagreeable ship. But he did not respond to my at tempt aj, civility, at which 1 wandered a little. “I wish to speak a word to you, sir.” “ Fifty, if you like.” “ Feiver ivill suffice. I forbid you to talk any more to Madame.” I stared at him with considerable sur prise, because avc had parted in perfect cor diality overnight, if going to different ends of a saloon can be called parting. “ I don’t understand, signor.” “ Yet my words are good English.” “Yes; I don’t mean that. But, avhat makes you say this to me ? Surely I have not had the misfortune to offend Madame ? If so, it was without intention; but I have no recollection of anything of the kind.” “ It appears to me that a husband has a right to say who shall talk to his Avife.” “ Well, in a sense, yes,” said I, beginning to get angry: “ but he must show some signs of rationality. Here were we talk ing in a friendly Avay on this deck a few hours ago, and noAV you come to meAvitha rude speech, and an older for which I see no kind of reason.” “ It is enough that I have one.” “ No, it is not quite enough, signor. Is it by Madame’s wish that you say this to me ?” “ It is by my own wish.” “Very well. I intend to know Avliat it means. Of course, I have no desire to force myself on any one; but I shall not submit to impertinence. I tell you that I shall speak as usual to Madame when she comes on deck, and after that I shall see. If Madame talks to me, I shall talk to her.” “ She Avill not talk to you.” “ l ask you why.” “ Because 1 have forbidden her.” “ Again I ask why.” “Becauseof my will.” “ Look here, signor,” said 1; “ a quarrel bctAvecn us Avould be very absurd, and an Englishman hates to be absurd. But he also hates to be dictated to. If you do not choose to give me a reason for obeying your desire, I Avill not obey it, and I Avill ask Madame what it means.” “You had better not!” he said, unbut toning his long coat, and showing me that he had a stiletto affixed to his Avaistooat. This act put me into a terrible rage, and 1 said. “Don’t try your theatrical tricks with me. If you don’t button up that rubbish, and apologize for showing it, I will knock you down, drag you into the saloon, and tell all the people why.” “Do me first the honor to feel my arm,” he said, extending it. My answer Avas angry. 1 need not re peat it. “ Well, you Avill feel it iu another, way if you disobef me,” he replied, and Avith sin gular alacrity lie darted away, and the next moment Avas diving down into the cabin. lon, in the beautiful play, states that he has asked a- dreadful question of the hills. It did not occur to me, not being poetical, to apply for information to the Servian mountains, on which I suppose I AA'as un consciously staring, but I sought it at a nearer source—my own vanity. Of course 1 told myself something of the story which I imagine you thought I Avas going to tell you. I had been too fascinating to Madame ; and really I had not intended to be so. But, after all, it is not an un pleasant thing to knoAv that one can be dangerous, and I began to feel less resent ment against the signor. I Avould be more careful. But still I would not be in timidated into entire silence when I ap proached Madame Zinna. In this moder ate and rather complacent mood I remained on deck until the time Avhen the beds were usually pushed under the seats, and the cabin was ventilated and eating and drinking recommenced. When I Avent down 1 suaa Cosmo and his wife at the further end of the table. I removed my hat, looking at them, but no return courtesy was manifested. I took my seat, and demanded coffee. While Avaiting for it I looked several times in the direction of my late friends, and Madame’s blue eves turned on me for a moment. The next, Cosmo suddenly snatched something front her and thrust it into his breast pocket, She made an appealing gesture, but did not, I thought, speak. They were on bad terms, then. Presently he rose, and signed to lier to follow him out of the saloon. He passed me close, taking no notice; but as Zinna came by she touched me on the shoulder, and dropped a scrap of card beside me. Then slie Avent after her imperious lord. On the card were penciled four words— “ He has sold me.” “ Two mysteries before breakfast! ” said I. “ One certainly does get something by traveling. What on earth, or on water, does the Avoman mean? Sold her? She must be mad.” But that peculiarly British explanation of everything Avhich one does not under stand or does not like, failed to satisfy me. If she had been an ugly old woman, it might lia\-e done so; but her eyes were very blue, and I resolved to knoAv a little more. Besides, T bad only half forgiven the signor, and felt new anger with him for tlie violence 1 had just seen him ex hibit. When I got upon deck again, the couple were standing apart from the other Devoted to the Interests of the People. passengers, and near the wheel. I deter mined' to speak to them. He can’t draw his stiletto without unbuttoning that abominable coat, 1 thought, and il lie lays a ringer on a button] shall be too quick for bint. .t n u(J Ortyxl all A ; Sol walked straight up to them, raised my hat, and said. “Inyour presence, Signor, there can be no objection to my asking pardon of Madame, if I have in an' v Avav offended her.” He smiled, made no answer, but strode away to a distant part of the ship. “fto, it is he avlio is mad,” thought I. But Zinna gave me no time to consider what course, in a danube boat, Avas equiva lent to getting a commission dr hrnatieo in London. “Offended me-" she said hurriedly, and iu a loav A'oice. though one was near. >No, no; it is you avlio are offended. But you have read?” “ The card ?—yes. Whet can you mean ?” “ What I have wrote. You know that Turk who gave you the coffee ? He is a Pasha, brother-in-law to the Sultan. Ask your friend the shipman ; he knows that Turk. lam his. lie has sold me.” “ Your husband has? Impossible !” I .said stupefied, and trying to make myself realize the fact that I Avas getting into Oriental latitudes. “My husband? No; we have deceived you, but it Avas bis avill. He is my father, and lie has sold me to the Pasha. I know not when I ant to be taken oil' this ship, but Avhen the moment comes it will lie my signal. Igo there.” And she pointed to Ihe turbid waters of the Danulte. Well, ladies and gentlemen, 1 won’t trouble you Avith my sensations. I can snm them up in a someAvhat colloquial phrascyand tell you that I was struck all in a heapj or I can dilate upon the gradu ally increasing conviction that came upon me, and tell you how I reflected that paslms did buy ladies, and that avc Were close to Turkish territory, and so forth. But I had better relate what followed. Eaeli of you can imagine the feelings of a young and untraveled man AVlien apprised by a young and charming girl that she Avas sold. I “But against your will'. That cannot be allowed,” I said. * “ The Sultan’s brother in-law can do as he pleases. There is no escape for me but the waters, and they shall receive me Avhen I ant called to my master. My father was making the bargain yesterday. Did you not see him often talk to the Pasha ? Did you not see him making signs with his lingers ?” “ Yes; but I thought he aaas showing some trick for the Turk's amusement.” ; “He Avas bargaining for me,” she said, calmly raising her blue eyes to my face. “The Paslia bid him command you not to speak to me.” “Curse the Pasha!” 1 said furiously; “lie is nothing tome. I will insult him before the Avltole ship, the old scoundrel! Claim protection from all of us. Do you think that a company of Christian gentle men Avill see a Christian girl dragged off to a harem ?” “ They see it often on these boats,” she said. “It would be of no avail. The cap tain Avould set me ashore on that bank, and then lam on Turkish land. There is no escape but that one. There aaus another this morning—at least. A chance —but it is gone. You saAv how it went.” “ I saw ” “Listen. We stop at Orsova. i kuoAV one person t here; but he will not help me without pay. My lather docs not UnoAV him ; but he knoAvs what money Avill do, and lie has taken my purse from me. 1 had thought to slip aAvay in the ci OAvd Avhen Ave all rush into Orsova for break fast. It is a poor chancy and it is gone. But there is a certain escape left me. And once more she pointed down upon the stream. “Orsova!” said a score of jubilant, voices. We are rapidly nearing the dirty lookirig town. “My master will soon give the word from bis cabin,” she said. “Ail, you are sorry for me. You area good man,and you are in love. May your bride be happy Avitli you ! Give her this, from a poor girl avlio lias gone down into the deep rather than accept shame. It has no A alue, or I AA'ould have used it in my great need.” It AA'as a little cornelian cross, with a blue ribbon attached —tlie color of her eyes. “ Here,” I said, emptying my oavii purse into her hand, and giving her a great quan tity of gold and silver, “ for God’s sake make the escape, if possible. Bribe senti nels, officers, anybody; they will all take it, lam told. In the worst, fly to our Con sul, and swear you are English. Gain time and bribe freely. Here are some notes.” “ There may be a hope yet,” she said. “You are an angel. lam too young to die: yet I will, if ” “Don’t talk of dying. Conceal yourself until the right moment.” Tlie blue eyes, swimming in tears, avci c raised again. She snatched my hand, kissed it, at and darted away. “If the villain comes near me now,” I said, “ I Will fell him to the deck, let the consequences be what they may.” And I would, and should; but he came near me no more, and I lost sight of him in tlie rush at landing. - Zinna also disap peared; but when, I know not, though I watched narrowly for her. Then came the struggle for the little AA-agons, the pass port business, and the long delay, after which we went off in a rapid procession to the frontier, and so to Skela Gladova. When the large steamer started, neither father nor child was on board. I reached Odessa in due time, sojourned there, and did the business on Avhich I had come ; and one night I went to the theatre —the Rus sian theatre. I knew no Russian, but thought I might as well see everything. “ What does that mean ?” I said, show ing a line in the playbill to my friend the shipbuilder, who had by this time arrived Avith the pretty sister of whom Nicholas I. was so afraid. They had kindly come Av itli me, though this theatre is not patronized by the respectabilities. “ A kind of interlude,” he said. “ Pleas ing Feats of Strength and Grace.” And they were very pleasing. The man Avas very strong, the Avoman Avas very graceful. But it was not so pleasing to me to recognize Signor Cosmo and Mad ame Zinna as the performers, or to notice that when they retired, amid plaudits, ea ?h threw a marked salute at me, with beam ing smiles. However, we ail get “done” a good many times before we learn to be men of the world. I don’t think I felt much ashamed. Zinna’s eyes were so very blue. The following epitaph may lie seen in tlie cemetery of a parish in the environs of Paris: “Here lies Madame N , Avife of M. N , master blacksmith. The rail ing around this tomb, was manufactured by her husband.” THE KU-KLUX KLAN. Front the Cleveland Herald. We are r .i. session of the remarkable narrative of a young Clevelander avlio lias lately had some experience—quite enough for his own satisfaction —among the Ku- Ivlux Klan of Middle Tennessee. The young man is Alvah A. Richardson, the son of Mr. Z. S. W. Richardson, a well knoAvu lumber dealer of this city. The story is entirely reliable in every particu lar, and Mr. Richardson still bears on Ills person the marks of the injuries received in liis flight front the murderous band. We give the story as related to us bv Mr. R. on the first day he Avas able to leave liis bed after his arrival at home. About the middle of April last, Alvah A. Richardson, of Cleveland, went to Mid dle Tennessee for the purpose of buying cedar land, the cedar to be cut and used for posts, etc. Excellent opportunities for doing a profitable business were found by young Richardson, and beiu ulcquately supplied with money, lie s >u made sev eral'important purchases. On Monday, the 20th of April, lie reached Shelbyville, a town Avell knoAvn during the war for the villainous seccssionism of many of its in habitants. Shelbyville is reached by a brauch of the Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad. The only public house there is kept by one Colonel Blackwell, a Avell known and active rebel. At this house Mr. Richardson stopped, and at once en gaged in liis business. He had no difficulty in satisfactorily arranging his business with the bank, and found there was plenty of such timber as he wanted for sale. He -bought about three hundred acres of valu able cedar land, and began negotiations for a gang of workmen to cut the timber. In looking about for w orkmen, he found plenty, Avliite and black. The whites de manded sls per month, w hile the blacks w r ere willing to Avork for $lO per month. Under these circumstances, and influenced also by the fact that the negroes were likely to be quite as efficient and vastly less troublesome than the whites, Mr. Richardson engaged a number of blacks for liis work. This avc have stated definite ly, as it affords the only clue to the bloodthirsty persecution to which Richard son was almost immediately subjected. He became aware of the prevailing public sentiment by hearing much conversation at the hotel and about the streets. All this went to slioav that the rebel element Avas active and exceedingly bitter con cerningthe supposed wrongs of the whites. BroAvnloAV was denounced in the most violent manner. It Avas a frequent remark that a day of retribution was coming—that niggers could not long be allowed to vote, etc., while white men were disfranchised. It AA r as also stated quite freely that the Ku-Klux Klan was 30,000 strong in Ten nessee, that it AA'as already extended to Ncav York and other Northern cities, and Avould before long wopk out a terrible revenge for the followers of the lost cause Richardson, however, having no special interest in political matters, *'llll not inter fering with them in any way, even in con versation, anticipated no trouble, and in dustriously prosecuted liis business. He procured a white man for his guide, r id rode over tlie neighboring country ’.ink ing for cedar land that could be lr,tight. On Wednesday, April 22, he avus thus en gaged, and had ridden Avith hisguide about eight miles out from Shelbyville. Passing along a cross-road in a thinly settled re gion, they suddenly met two men, mounted and armed. The guide said lie knoAv the men, and that they (himself and Richard son) had “better get back on 1© tlie pike.” He gave no reason for this caution, but Richardson assented, and they started to go to the main road. Within a mile, how ever, as they were passing through some thickly Avooded land, half a dozen men, mounted and armed, Avitli their faces par daily covered, and their horses also dis guised, suddenly rode from the brush and planted themselves in the road in front. The guide instantly wheeled his horse about, and without a word disappeared as fast as the animal could carry him, leaving Richardson, confounded by the suddenness of the maneuver, sitting on his horse a few feet from the masked party. He had heard enough since coming to Tennessee to know that he Avas now before a party of tlie bloody Ku-Klux Klan, but he knew not what to do. He could not run, for he was totally lost in tlie wild country. Jle had not long to wait, liOAvever. One of the masked men addressed him : “ Stranger, Avliar do you belong ?” Richardson ansivered that he had tliat morning come from Shelbyville. “You don’t belong in Shelbyville,” re plied the man; “ whar did you come from ?” “From Canada, before 1 came to Ten nessee,” replied Richardson. “Canada! Well, you’re the one we’re after!” Avas the reply. The party were about to advance, Avlien Richardson, almost unconsciously, wheeled his horse about and ran. Tlie animal was a good one, and the pursuers could hardly keep in sight. Tavo or three bullets sent after him only served to urge Richardson on the faster. Finally he had got beyond sight of the pursuers entirely, Avlien, in going doAvn a steep hill, liis horse stum bled and fell, breaking liis mvn shoulder, and leaving Richardson lying senseless on the ground, bis head terribly cut, and his body badly bruised in a dozen places. Here he would undoubtedly have soon been in the hands of the K. K. K,’s again, had not a party of negroes, at work near by, Avitnessing his fall, carried hint oft’ into the brush and shut him in one of their shanties. The horse was ruined, and the negroes killed him to end his misery. V/ hen Richardson returned to conscious -1 ess he was in the negro shanty, liis wounds had been bound up, and his c arky friends were preparing to take him to Shelbyville. Under their escort he ar rived at Blackwell’s Hotel, in Shelbyville, during the afternoon, where the services of a surgeon were procured, and lie Avas made as comfortable as possible. Colonel BlackAvell and some other of the prominent citizens came into the room and talked freely about the affair, the Ku-Klux Klan, etc. Hardly had his wounds been dressed Avlien a note Avas handed to Rich ardson ; no one kneAv where it came from, or if they did, would not tell. It read as follows? T t t “ Chamber of Death. ** Stranger: “ We give you from now till tlie next 1 train goes, to lea\'e Tennessee. 1 “If you don’t go by that time, we’ll call ; on you again to-night. There was no signature to the note, hut | the citizens present did not need a signa ! Hire to tell them the source ot' the threat. ! It was from the Ku-Klux Klan. lUchard • son was not inclined i o believe that tlieir murderous designs would be carried out in ! Shelbyville, a city nominally under the control of responsible authorities, and in connection with the military post at Nash ville, Murfreesboro, etc. He told Colonel Blackwell that lie did not feel able to be moved, that his business could not be set tled in the hour that Avould elapse before the train left, and that he thought he should not go. Colonel Blackwell, how ever, ItneAV better than Richardson the consequence of disobeying flic orders of the bloody Klan, and not wishing to have his house brought uncomfortably to the notice of State and national authorities, he strenuously urged his guest to leave. Other citizens also insisted upon this course, and so Richardson, bruised and bleeding, unable to walk or even to rise from liis bed, Avas carried to the depot and put on board the train for Nashville. At Nashville he fortunately fell into the care of Captain Clark, of the steamer Floyd, and Avas treated Avitli the greatest kindness on the trip from that place to Cincinnati. He arrived at home on Tues day, the-29tfi of April, and was confined to the house until Saturday, when our re porter satv him and obtained the fore going facts. Mr. Richardson desires to acknowledge gratefully the kindness of Captain Clark','"and says a more consider ate gentleman does not sail on the Western rivers. The narrative of Mr. Richardson we have given Avitliout embellishment. It needs none. If there are those avlio doubt the existence of a Ku-Klux Klan, or that its objects and works are the most blood thirsty and cowardly that can he imagined, Mr. Richardson is not one of them —lie know’s better. FALSE REPORTS ABOUT HEX. GRANT. .Mu. F. Law Olmstkad Avrites to the Nation the folloAving curious story, show ing lioav a false report is raised against a man’s reputation: To the Editor of the Nation : One day in the spring of 1803, Frederick Knapp and myself w r ere guests of General Grant, at his headquarters, on a st eamboat lying at Millikcn’s Bend, a few miles above Vicksburg. A curtain had been hung in such a way as to give a certain degree of seclusion to the after part of the main cabin, and Avhen avc rose from dinner avc were asked to sit Avitli the General behind the screen, Avliere there was a writing ta ble Avitli a pitcher and glasses. The Gen eral then told us that he had a foAV hours before received unfavorable intelligence from General Sherman’s expedition up the Sunflower. Inviting our inquiries, and replying to all tve thought it proper to make w ith an unexpected generous freedom and pains taking thoroughness of explanation, he was gradually led into a comprehensive review of the existing conditions of his campaign, which it was easy to see Avere of the very gravest character. We were impressed as much by the remarkable methodical clearness of the narration, as by the simple candor and ingenuousness with which it Avas given to us, avlio, the day before, had been strangers to him. lie took up several hypotheses and sug gestions and analyzed them in such a way as to make prominent the uncertain ties and uncontrollable elements which Avere involved in them, and I could not hut think, so musingly and quietly reflect ing AA'as his manner, and yet so exact and Avell arranged his expressions, that he w as simply repeating a process of “ thinking it out,” in order to assure himself that lie fully comprehended and gave just weight to all the important elements of some grand military problem, the solution of which he Avas about to undertake, (The last attempt to attack Vicksburg on the north ended that day, and a few hours after our interview the first step w as taken looking toward the approach from the south; but of this no hint was given us, and we only heard ot it tlie next morn ing.) All at once lie stopped short, and with an expression of surprise, if not of dis tress, put liis cigar aivay, rose, and moved liis chair aside. A moment before we could not have imagined that there was a Avoman Avithin many miles of us; but, turning my eyes, I saw one avlio lmd just parted the screen, comely, well-dressed, and Avitli the air and manner of a gentle woman. She had just arrived by a steam-j boat from Memphis, and came to presen General Grant Avith a memorial or peti tion. In a few Avords she made known her purpose, and offered to give in detail certain facts, of Avhicli she stated she was cognizant, bearing upon her object. The General stood listening to her in an atti tude of the most deferential attention, his hand still upon his chair, Avhicli aviu half in front of hint as lie turned to face her, and slightly nodding liis head as an ex pression of assent at almost every sentence she uttered. When she had completed her statement, he said, speaking very loav, and with an appearance of reluctance. “ 1 shall be compelled to consult my medical director, and to obtain a report from him before I can meet your Avishcs. If agree able to you, 1 Avill ask him to call upon you to-morrow —shall 1 say at eleven o’clock?” The lady bowed and Avitlidrew ; tlie General resumed liis cigar and bis seat, and said that lie Avas inclined to. think her proposition a reasonable and humane one, and then went on Avitli the inter rupted revicAV. A week or two after this, having gone up the ri\'er, Mr. Knapp met this iady ot a hotel, when, in the course of a conversa tion, she referred with much sadness to the deplorable habits of General Grant, and the hopelessness of success Avliile our army was commanded by a man so unfit to be charged Avitli any grave responsibili ty. Mr. Knapp replied that he had tlie best reason for stating that the reports to which she referred Avere without founda tion, and proceeded to give her certain exact information of Avhicli lie happened to be possessed, which, as far as possible, refuted them. “Unfortunately,” said the lady, “I have certain knowledge that they are but too true.” She then described her recent intervieAv with Gen. Grant, and it appeared that, from her point of view, the General Avas engaged in a carouse with one or tAvo boon companions when she came unexpectedly upon him ; t hat lie rose to liis leet Avith difficulty, could not stand Avitliout staggering, anti was obliged to support himself with a chair; that lie was evidently conscious that he was in an unfit condition to attend to business, and wanted to put lier off till the next day; that his voice A\-as thick, he spoke inco herently, and she tvas so much shocked that she A\ as obliged to withdraw almost immediately. The next day, being ashamed to see her himself, he sent liis doctor to find out Avliat she wanted. Mr. Knapp then told her that, having been one of the boon companions whom she had observed with the General on that occasion, and that having dined with him j and been face to face with him for fully ! three hours, he not only knew that he was | under the influence of po drink stronger! TERMS: $1.50 PER YEAR, IN ADVANCE. than the unqualified mud of the Missis sippi, but he could assure her that he i never had seen a man who appeared to him more thoroughly sober and clear headed than General Grant at the moment of her entrance. Notwithstanding liis assurances, the lady repeated that she could not, doubt the evidence of lier own senses; and I suppose that to this day Mr. Knapp and myself rank, equally with General Grant, in her mind as confirmed drunkards. This experience is by no means a unique one, and the zeal and devotion with which I have often heard both men and women undermining the character of others for temperance on equally slight grounds, has often led me to question if there are no vices in our society more destructive to sound judgment and honest courses than that of habitual overdrinking. Yours respectfully, Fred. Law OLaistead. We can tell another story of the same kind. While Grant lay before Vicksburg, a letter came to this office from a respecta ble and generally trustworthy person in a Western city, an ardent Unionist and a man of influence, in which we are told, as positively and undeniably true, that on a certain occasion Grant and liis staff went from Springfield to Cairo in the car of the President of the railroad; that on the way the whole party got uproariously drunk, and that Grant was the worst of the com pany. This the writer said he knew to be t rue, and on this and other evidence he de sired the Evening Pont to demand the re moval of Grant. By a singular coincidence Mr. Osborne, then President of the Illinois Central Rail road, happened to come into this office while the letter we speak of was under discussion, and of course he was asked about the story he told. He replied at once : “ It is a malignant falsehood. Grant and liis staff did go down to Cairo in tlie President’s ear; I took them down my self, and selected that car because it had conveniences for writing, sleeping, and eating on the way. We had dinner in the car, at which wine was served to such as desired it. I asked Grant Avliat he would drink. He answered, “A cup of tea,” and this I made for him myself. Nobody was drunk on the car, and to my certain knowledge Grant tasted no liquid but ten and water.” This A\'as the exact truth of the matter. Yet we helieve our correspondent wrote in good faith. —New York Evening Poet. -•-. V Relic of Southern Barbarism. A correspondent of the Cincinnati Chronicle, writing from Chillicothc, Ohio, says: Coming out over the Marietta and Cin cinnati road, on the evening of the 22d, with Conductor liardin, I had the good luck to fall in company with Messrs. J. N. Wright and S. M. McMahill, of Greenfield, Ohio. We had been talking but a few minutes when the conversation turned upon the condition of affairs in the South. The operation of the Ku-Klux Klan, the prevailing rebel preference of Andy John son and Brick Pomeroy for President and Vice President, etc. etc., were freely and radically discussed. These topics naturally elicited sundry parenthetical comments on Southern character, and in the course of one of these Mr. McMahill happened to remember that he had in his pocket a relic of the barbarism exhibited by the F. F. V.’s towards John Brown and his confed erates; and, producing liis pocket-book, took from that receptacle a small piece of well-finished leather of remarkable fineness of texture. “That,” said he, “is a piece of the tanned skin of Oliver P. Brown, son of the famous John Brown.” “Can it be possible?” asked an excited bystander. A full explanation was, of course, imme diately demanded, which I here present as substantially given by Mr. McMahill, whose reputation for truth and veracity stand unimpeached by any one who knows him. During the action in which John Brown and liis little Abolition band was captured by the Virginians, Oliver P. Brown avus shot dead on the railroad track, near the United States Arsenal, at Harper’s Ferry. So soon as killed he was taken up, put into a box and whipped to tlie Medical Institute at Winchester, Va„ to he used in the pro motion of the professional training of Southern Esculapians. Upon the recep tion of the body the students of that school took off the hide, somewhat after the man ner of skinning a beef, tanned it, and had it manufactured into moccasins, Avhich, in the most truly chivalrous style, they de lighted to use as ornaments to their “blooded” pedal extremities on all public occasions. The piece shown by Mr. McMahill was a scrap left from the cutting of these “ Yankee-skin ” slippers, and Avas pro cured in 18(50, at tlie Winchester Medical Institute, by Mr. McMahill, while he aatis visiting some relative in tlie vicinity of that place. It was voluntarily presented to him by one of the students, who, after a triumphant parade of the slippers, and a bloviating description of the processes by which they were produced, heroically exclaimed, “That’s the way avc se’vc you d —d Yankees when you come ’mongst. us an’ don’t Avalk aftch bull style!” Facts to he Remembered. It is a fact; Ist. That tlie so-called Democratic party threatened, commenced, and carried on the war of t he rebellion. 2d. That the leaders of the Democratic party were the leaders of the rebellion. 3d. That the Democratic party con trolled tlie States in rebellion. 4th. That tlie Democratic party opposed every measure of the Government to sup press the rebellion. sth. That the Democratic party discour aged enlistment into the Union army and resisted the draft. 6th. Tliat the Democratic party gave aid and comfort to the rebels in arms dur ing the Avar. 7th. Thai tlie Democratic party refused to give our brave and patriotic soldiers in the field fighting for the life of the nation, the right to vote. Bth. That the Democratic party oppose, every measure adopted by Congress to restore peace, harmony, and security to the country. 9th. That the Democratic party,by forc ing upon the country, without a cause, a long, bloody, and expensive Avar, created a vast public debt, and imposed upon the people untold sorrow and burthens gre vious to be borne. lOth.fThat the Democratic party are re sponsible* for high taxes, high prices, de rangement of business, cte., which are tlie legitimate fruits of the war. llth. That the Democratic party, having uot quite ruined the country, now ask the people to give them the power to both rule and ruin It. —Jllinoie State, Journal. NO. 36.