Newspaper Page Text
Of every description neatly and promptly —tied at Wo. 404 MARKET STREET 4 th and 5 th StreotB, ÄLAWARE. I'." WILMINGTON, D JAMES MONTGOMERY Is prepared to execute printing of every descrip tion inn neatnnd expeditious manner, and on any establishment in the reasonable terms country—such PAMPHLETS, HANDBILLS, . BUSINESS HARDS, SHOW BILLS, CIRCULARS, LABELS, BILL HEADINGS, BLANKS, HU friends 11 iirl the public geneffelly mi, I In their orders. I»tly filled, and sent by \ place in the »State. spectfully invited to s The jobs will be pi mail or otherwise to THE CRYSTAL EATING SALOON. Basement of Saville's Building, Corner SistiIi and Market St«» WILMINGTON, DEL. û CHARLF *£95â£I f Po ,, .1 BIOTE I T' dr i viel formerly Sale Iffipu) eat : rh I. > ' 1 .lohn M I 0 ■er*ud i.j. lit tho «huriea fiWJl'EllIOK OYSTERS STYLE. LI. HOURS, MEALS f rfr E IN SEASON. I ralwl« of do tho. ,d Lie f-ti. I i pc be had rin I hr 0 rot cl . roly on my k U : qalrOit to pro till Kilting Hu tli I ■ r.V' nl« loon, if •xtnv «ys HLKR KI *rr ■ !.: T1IK "P ■ MIh I' I rith all than of enjoy III iifcliud : styl**, I I* 1 .f : cU foriill thoai \roll-couAuc .,l ! tho Tory Pl*H«'«t I 111 l wfthu boni Wines, I ili.'u i« Ii is tollo tttlil tly in tlio city. tifiilly aii.t tastely Jll tie In ll,.. i;n yod, with d ; ,>iy ull I i»f< pile no \mlud h Hp :i 1 ■i'." i. lid III* will idly or oU I f nil win It , '- !. 'I'ii : Ud ll Uli tholr put it of curiosi' ith which tl ti' in L>tii g*, Ac oik . . HU tl tly iimkiii he f i . CHADWICK tlonn. PENIIVSIiri'.A.Bl HOUSE, TOW N 8 EN I ». D ! : L A W A R E. LKVI W. LATTOMU PROPRIETOR. iy ■■rll rile "i* i-tlttui >li I" fully h « rally L 'l" I ip «.r the el. •ll' fu II Ih tabk ill Hotel i miy lirai cl of W the choice*! I* .-I Hr nil ' III : III p Mill hielt .I they: .Kilo» 11 to «IV .•.«ii ce in the II cl Iliiviu« hail rill Hi I* . ..ull public will ,KVÎ W. LATTOMUfl, Dill . NT hiUh. J « 16-311 MANSION* fiSOUSE, v, DEI.., NEW D. W. DEIIAVEN, Proprietor. THE SVUMCKIIIKR H A V IN I r«H|icclful 1 y iu!'• : . mill . HisTAULl may ci» I ■ . bent airy m»l dih IT'" Tli« I JAR Kill Ii ■pi 1 It >•1, I" • ill l.o fu nbiheîi «I I« ill AY DAVID J) Hotrl. IS, PROPRIE* B. GOFF A Fit. :? TORS*—Tin* Hub*. Willlui h To « NORTH W KST OK AMI K BTS., I tyi«, tiH-y »»» wav y fi el UIh|h«hoiI to fttt« ' ; pniroiiizu ll «I* ul th ! of their pu I to li tn« I IIRAND8 will rniitain only ti*<* CIIOIfiK 1> IMPORTED^ UftlH'l OK DOMKST ■ ii b ■ ■ ,.lh make oral h1 HARD (10KF. »fl«' ROBKIIT FRANCIS. N. B.—(iooil Horn»» I The Union SfUm»e A Itininft Nil loon. B KO Al) NTRBBT, I.DiJI.l'IIIA. IRK DEPOT. OPPOSITE THE I JAMES E ORD, PROPRIETOR. PL D A N C R I n K E NOUM Union li ii >1 I Kill ■ I p»y >'• IV» Hill ■ ill! Ill ill« lii'il -ly any h Hotel, EIGHTH AND CHURCH STREETS, » DELAWARE, FRANCIS M. IvKGNAY, Prop illy an nernlly ii. it» ! ,h tl M ill bo Imp; Ul'tlcIl'H Jill ll !*I»I pplietl with ü I" ■ ' i NT I. Lit- pin » |ir !3 CETV HOTIBls. nl Shipley, Street between Orange Froi WIIhMINGTON, DEI*. iis «M •Is 'J n lilt! II Hr! ii I ri. : ll> HHk »f of pi in tin* city. IiiivIiik 1 tli : of till* I >y Ufa till. glv« „-ï, ï ON & CO. M. Hol S. M. 1101.1 gTLYESTEK RUNIIAMD. IUccliiiiiii'N Mold and SVcMtiiiii'anl. No. 1 North side of Fourth Street , between Mar ket and Shipley Sts , Wilmington, Del. JOHN T. McKEAL, Imiomiütor, ud LiqU . I; !?Ti he keel'« "• ü! .s«« ■ ■ , will Lo found tho most obliging his expo nd ln Ä« »io id»' II • ill cl Intimi of biHf »II WuMt' frit-nils ui ul his old Hotel » If MlTll lie ■ Villa»*' Eiaiiiind Ifi'ove Yard. THE SUUHCRIBHR take* tills method ot lu «llin« pUb : : lit?, til» ippllctl wltl Ilis tubl 11 I Hi i«»i». Imported I to tlio lintel » ' Att utile. Clive luted will : JAMES HAVF.l y W® KlKHiVU SlIiV THpectfully II». iblic gcnomlly. New tholr ith the choice»! article i friends and (IU liken tho l(i«in« t hut I T •cl ■ I» UiH table will ï c. ■ tl KEUiAN Jull-tf ICayiHOiul IfioiiMt*. CLAYTON, SMYRNA STATION, KENT COUNTY, THE SUIISCUIUEU CLAWARK rin, Dili! lie »ml nil • him. Hi» lie brat that 1 1 * • «•ill - •.! I I 1« »r Import iiuly »t tb« « ure engage eh ï i. . iiMtlc Uni ■ B pt I wi»hca of hi >liM>f Wjl in IVC ii, mi»«ton and will lind tbl« ; < ï ,v III III« Sial MOSES RASH HlirjIM by; niy*-ly THE BOIMJttftER. ething «in here. Full particular« sent tree! Ad*re»« SHAW A CLARK, Bldduford, Maine, forod to' il article, Ju I kin!) ■ mchWLyia EJEtL/äM/älM DBS r r D D VJ S' □ □ TTJSriTliT, EQ/ITAIjTTY, fratebititt. ' I * PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY, BY JAMES MONTOOMBRY, NO. 404 Bf A -JJ£JET H1REET, DETWKEN FOURTH AND FIFTH STREETS, WILMINGTON, DELAWARE. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 1861. YOU. III.—No. 22. $2.00 PER ANNUM. POETRY. THEBISINÖ OP THE rEOPLËr Ft Delivered before the ni Bild Kappa So defy of Harvard University. Po Ft KLBR1DOR JRKKKSON CUTLKR. The drum's wild roar awakes the land ; the fife is calling shrill; Ton thousand starry banners blaze and bay, and hill ; Our crowded streets soldiers' measured tramp ; bladed cornfields gleam the white tents of the camp. , . Tho thunders of the rising war hush Labors drowsy hum, , , , And heavy to the ground tho first dark drops of battlo come. ^ThessPolp of nten fiatne up.Anew ♦> no/row heart expands ; - And woman brings her patient faith her euger ba nds. Thank God! long in trance Thank.God! the fntlic -day. Fr v town, throbbing with the Fn Among Oh ; not buried yet, though need not blush to own thei ecks went by ; each Oh Oh! sad ami slow the held his anxious breath, • who waits, in kelpl.08 ■ sorrow great as death. faith in God, r any sky the blight ; it hushed the th< Oh! along the Southe • niter o While fi ing shadow It veiled the patriot's song, , . . And «Kilo from mon liio «acred scnac tint |nirtetli iIrIiI Iron, wrung. red flash, the lightning across the dark ness broke, And, with u voice that shook the land, the guns ot Sumter spoke : Wake, sons of heroes, wake ! The age of heroes dawns again ; Truth takes calls her loyal men. Lo! brightlv o'er the breaking day shines Oh Then a ivord, and eient hand her Freedom's holy e. All hail e cannot cure the sickly ti the healer, War ! I* Oh, as heard by Plymouth Rock ; 'twos That call hcaid in Boston Bay ; Then up the piny streams af Maine sped ringing way. Hampshire's rocks, Vermont s green lulls, it kindled into flame: Rhode Island felt her mighty soul bursting her little frame ; The Empire City started up, lier golden letters its NT the North the fiery And, imrssage sent ; Over the breezy prairie land, by bluff id lake it , nnd laughed and by. camp, by stony .•here the Golden find his she Till Ki a to himself a , by cabi wastes nnd sands, g exultant down the City stands. Thor It e, there rose Aud wheresoeT the summons c* angry din, ii n$nn « vnolty coast, a stomiv tide bo light Straightway the fathers gathered voice, way the so With flashing cheek, as when the Last with ■'s red current glows. Hurrah! the long despair is past ; The fog is lifting fro ancient blue ! the secret of the deeds the sires have handed down, To fire the youthful soldier's zeal, his gr Who lives for country, through his all her forces How, be brave for truth. failing the land, and lo, the renew : We lei id tend feels for tho 'Tin blow. , lair form ot Liberty, God's light is )h ! L Oh ! Liberty, thou soul of L h thy brow. •• r , God's very self One the clear river's sparkling flood and clothes the hank wilh green ; the line of stubborn rock that holds cuuuot think apart, see Friends, whom eh other's foe ; pon a Bingle stalk with equal mg Twin flower! grace that grow. Oh ! fair ideas, we write yo banner's fold ; For you, tho sluggard's brui names across • of coward bold. Oh! daughter of the bleeding pi the prophets saw ! Law in Liberty, and Liberty i ! Oil ! hope God give I Law ! tingled joy. aching with proudly forth, aching for those it leaves y n heart it Full id may those who go Ft again ; And many a Heart is bell ind, d tender histories throng i As n tli oil! 'I' the mind. The old men bless the young their bearing high ; The women in the doorways stand to wave them bravely by. One threw her " Good bye, my God help thee do the valiant deeds thy father would have done." One held up to a bearded kiss, And said, " I shall not be alone, for thy dear love nnd this." one, a rosebud in her hand, leant at a soldier's side ; "Thy country weds thee first," she said; " bo *1 thy second bride." about her boy, and said, a little child to And Oh ! mothers, when count your cherished And miss from the enchanted ring the flow of ull y Oh ! wives, when o'er the cradled child ye bend nt evening's fall, And voices which the heart can hear the distance call ; Oh ! maids, when, in the sleepless nights yo ope the little eiiBe, And look till ye can look proud young face, Not only pray the Lord of Life, who mortal breath, To bring tli«* absent back unscathed out of the tiro of death ; hearths, ye re, upon the 1 th that divine content which God's draws, lives or dies, he Oh ! pray best fav That, whosoev cause ! ves his holy So out of shop und farmhouse, from shore and inlund glen, Thick as the bees in clover time, a ing armed Along the dusty roads in haste the eager col With Hash of swortl and bugle and the drum. Hoi comrades ing at usket's gle the starry flag, broud i, tbe head, Ho ! comrades, murk the tender light dear emblems spread. Our fathers' blood lias halloed it; 'tis part of their renown ; And palsied be the catitf hand would pluck its glorieB down I Hurrah ! hurrah! it i colors fly ; We win with thee the victory, die! the home, where'er thy in thy shadow drive the rattling lo« Oh! w gather in the hay: I to For all the youth worth love und truth marshalled for the fray. Southward the hosts wide unfurled, the stately Hudson flouts the wealth of half tho world ; here, Huron's waters gtfeam ; wliero the Mississippi pours luted stream ; where Kentucky's fields of c them air; broad Ohio's luscious vines ; from Jer sey's orchards fair ; From where, betw brnska's rivers \ Pennsylvania's iron hills; from woody Oregon ; And Massachussetts led the hurrying, with b Ft id his clustered isles, Lake From lpol Ft bend it Fr the v his fertile slopes, Ne Fn inthe days And gave her reddest blood to cleanse the stones of Baltimore. Oh ! moth sisters, daughters, spare the id fain die in such a cause, ye cannot Who see call them dead. They lire upon the lips of liiiBt and song, •e folds them in her heart, them safe from wrong. pint id keeps And Oh ! length of days is not a boon the brave -se than death prayvth for; J a tliotisaud evils There strength, fed on the , with bis i Oppressi souls of And License, with the hungry brood that haunt his ghastly den. But like bright stars ye till the eye; adoring hearts ye draw ; cred grace of liberty, oh ! majesty of Oh ! beating; the fife is Hurrah ! the dr railing shrill ; d starry bnnuers flame <1 bay, and hill ; The thunders of the rising w peaceful hum ; Thank God that we have lived fron morning c •ning of the battle call, to Ten tho the snf The dier do Oh, joy! theory is "Forward!" Oh, joy! the of peace have failed to For nil the crafty purge the land ; Hurrah! tho ranks of buttle close; God tukea his cause iu hand ! cy THE PASTOR'S ELECT. Y VIRGINIA I*. ell me about it, Weldon. I hear tho whole story, and it's such a nice evening for it too. It is su< li a luxury to be all alone with you that the rain sounds really musical ns it drops against the panes." She lmd pushed a low ottoman to his feet, and throwing herself on this, lifted her sweet face, -work of brown soft hair, to her in its fra ,ro*W.*. - bave !ng my confessor—do smilingly responded the young clergy bo turned liis eyes from the anthracite blaze, where they had been dreamily fastened for the last half hour, and a beautiful, almost dreamy, dcrucss seemed to drift into them as they ed on his sister. Yes: to think you are really engaged, Weldon ? What would jonr parishioner» say tio'n of 'them ? 1 ' Tara'.omewhat^pnreheniivo their dally bet|u'eet> of bouquets and Irults would he sensibly diminished. But about the Iadt—is she beautiful, Weldon V ; "A womans first query?" and again that ilewent like Sunlight ov.er the grave ! handsome features of the young pastor— not certain, Hattie, whether an artist could think Iter so. Her features are not en- i , tiroir regular, and lier cheeks ere less rosy , than your own ; but the emotions of her deep gentle loving nature look not of her deep blue , d there 1» u sweet heart-cl,irography I the smiles that sparkle at times over her »II and rather p.niive month." " Von are drawing a charming Raphael pic lure. I,roll,ermine. She is young, of course ?" „ irnnii*. tironiv one " " And—no, I need not ask If her mind ,s well cultivated, for I know your opinions rospcct sell to doubt this. But is she e, nnd intend little sis ?" if ich h •• I ing woman intellectual—in short, a book w " Well, something of one. The formation of her head indicates n superior mental organ ization. but the faculties "And—let " Only in the possession of those great jewels which are above all price." " But her family—who are they ?" >• but one member of it, and he well balanced." —is she wealthy?" "I was a beggar.' " Weldon !" The little fingers that had •n playfully braiding themselves with those of the young man's were suddenly withdrawn —the quick blood flashed into the questioner's cheeks, and a look of mingled astonishment nud displeasure filled her brown eyes ns she breathlessly ejacuhfed— " Weldon, you are not in earnest?'' " Yes, 1 am Hattie. You kuow I would not jest on such a subject." •' But you took Aud—and—" The little red lips trembled a moment, and then the tears brimmed over the brown lashes, nnd journeyed slowly down the checks. "And troubled you, too, Hattie?" interro gated the young man, a9 ho leaned forward and caressingly smoothed down the bright hair of his sister. "Don't look ling, greatly bv surprise. sorrowful, dar though some great evil had caancod what I shall tell you, and and noble heart, But listen then see if y biased by social distinctions and prejudices, does not commend my selection. Will you do this, Hattie, if not for ray sake, for His who said that the poor and the rich wore alike iu His sight ?" Sweet Hattie Marshal! Her one great foible was her pride for her handsome, noble-hearted brother; it was harJly a weakness ; for he ull that God had left to her of tho household over whom tho spring daisies had long spread their golden covering ; and for a moment she hud looked with the world's eye upon his be trothal to the sister of n mendicant. But her brother's words bad silenced the pride-whispers in her heart, for Hattie Marshall had learned who was meek and humble in spirit. ask, Weldon. Forgive if I have done wrong," she whispered, drawing up doser to her brother, and laying her head in its old resting place against her heart; for very tenderly did brother and sister love each other. Weldon Marslmll drew his arm around his sister's waist, und then when tho rain moaned and tho wind muttered around the windows, and the anthracite fire mingled its ruddy glow with the silver astral light, and filled the par sonage sittiug-room with a dreamy crimson light, he told a story of the past, aud his eyes grew darker, and his low earnest tones full of patnetic eloquence us he told it. It is eight years next month, Hattie, and I Y> rk, engaged in my collegiate it was three years after that time with of Hi " I will do of studies. Y mother's death, and you uncle Harvard, attending school. It was a cold, wild, disagreeable night—and I remember standing at tbe window of my snug sanctum, and looking out ruefully into the darkness, for I had no engagement to meet several of ray fellow students that evening in a distant portion of ciiy. 11 Dear me bow the wind hlows!" I solilo quised with a very feminine shrug of »lie shoulders, as I drew the curtains closer. "I've half a mind to throw myself on tho lounge, which looks so provokingly comfortable this evening, and not attempt an encounter wi'h the elements. It's absurd to think they'll ex such a night ns this In short, I tempt an influenza by showing my face outside the door,'' was the conclusion of my logue. I remember that I wheeled up the sofa in comfortable proxjmity to the fire, locutod tho lamp so that its rays foil softly upon tho volume I intended to commune with, and that I had settled myself for a long quiet winter's evening. But it would not do. My eyes wandered listlessly along the pages ; they could not en gage my attention. A strange unaccountable feeling of restlessness and anxiety seemed to possess me. At last I resolutely closed the book, and a few minutes later I /ns in Brond way, mentally censuring 'luy TblTyTr.i to a feeling I could not resist. Ah me ! looking back through the eight years that lie between that weary night the present, how dearly can I discover the great Fathers love in Hull! » Win see him it JJSgSs'* : here little boy ?"—I though I had s d the light fn him just vcnling his nigged dress and pale, pinched f'Aitures, and the cold rain is dripping off his thin brown curls, ns it did tbeu. mournful picture—the dark ground in the hack-ground, nnd the little ragged boy, mid the brilliant lights, mid the great store, with of I arc confection?, in Iront, wonder it touched my heart. The hoy started I laid my hand gently on his shoulder, and looking up with 1 Mb wild, eager, bright eyes into ray face— • just this the tall win »»•Kt it fell then, re dow is falling Iti ange. No 6 earnest I thinking if I "Oh, sir!" he id, after a . "1 sal of my fea pe hose cukes homo to ly could car Ellen; she is very sick, and—and (the little fellow's lips quivered) we haven't hud thing l did not speak another word ; hold of the child, and pulled him for two days. •ut I caught *0 into the store. » down a plate of those cak the astonished clerk, who turned with fulfil " 1 " Hand more tl quest. ordinary nine: drew tho hoy i le eud of the ill Si ublisii Mit. 1 then tell eat these fas ' who Ellen Is.'' IIis hungry look, the strange which he grasped the food, uhnoi from avidity with wrung tears ly sister since e nil «lone now. Last because she cried so ot her , but 1 ' ! r sister—mv " Ellen the baby died. We month, just after they buried mother, she grew sick. I s p much ; ami she's been gr time." " And the r, but you, little fellow ?" " Nobody but me—the , sir, and though I sometimes a sixpence by selling papers or cleaning sidewalks, I couldn't leave Nelly for the I» week, she grew good these taste ! 1 e •ing worse all the take ci is nobody to other left is nil gone, y ii it thank yi other j * edn't, my boy, I rant • »».injimaut of them." I take the iv.-1 ii*im<- t. gone so long. Well y » will liko belt ii . . ' procured a basket, winch I SÄ? toTmp't "the ap'peti aud adding tn these >11 the money Iliad with me, I returned to the child. ; " « ° '"""r, 10 Nc l > ' 1,h Vti.r^l 3 cnn," I sa, d, "aud tell Iter that I w, I ! s<"> her to-morrow morning. Low, he W little boy, and take good care ot •»tel 11,1 J, p. 11, . . . .. .« i , And nil these for her !" said the eh,Id, , ••», '»fK' wondering eyes roamed hnnket "And shu had been moaning iu her , sleep after un oronge lie whole week. I P/V «'»■' '» *■'«»/"" f " r nl1 ll V ., He will, fur mother used th say He would hold «•"»» overlasting remembronee who forget not the widow nnd the orphan, and """B 1 *? gruftu, o und del,gilt were shower,,, g down the fellow'» face as wo parted. The next morning, llnltie, I received that letter which summoned .og bedside. I bad, o course till my engagement with the little orphans, in whom I had become so greatly interested : in deed, the mournful circumstances which drew the home of mv childhood ind. > that time, my little " But may .She'll be frightened, I' if you'd only go with " I'll come i.„: row'," I said, "if y •hile y and Nelly Miere you live, , eating the remainder i cakes I'll get something that Nelly j 'll tell . ,v well stock d confections I the •8 Of 1 my father's dy to fnl banished them from my It you will look dowi sister, you will remember that April ing her green carpet over the meadows before parted, and I plete my studies, and then to entertbat in which, before my father's dying bed, I had solemnly pledged to speud ull the life that God should grant me. I had forgotten the , but I know that I made several attempts o discover it alter ray return to tho city, nil of Mi ich proved ineffectual. the sunset of a bright day in the early in the great city looking tlie city to ï of the boy's resid It , and ev May-ti fairer for the sunshine that plaited the house tops with gold, and swept in golden flakes and dimples alorg tho pavements up which I passing with some fellow students "Now Marshall, remember to call for time, for the lecture commences nt it will certainly be crowded," called my companions, U9 we reached the corner where the path diverged. I bowed my assent nnd adieu,and was hurry ing forward, when my coat was suddenly grasp ed, and an eager, but timid voice snid, "Pie sir, is your name Marshall?" I turned and looked at tho speaker. It w a little girl, apparently about ten years of age; her loug curls tailing in ft bright, tangled about her small, sorrowful looking face, while her large blue eyes were fastened with e. kind of panting eagerness upon my " Yes, that is my name. And what do y wunt with me, uiy little girl?" I queried, greatly surprised at this singular encounter. " Oh, sir, do you remember a little boy whom met one evening last winter, who told y he had a sister Nelly, and-" The mystery cleared up. "Yes, ye«, I remember 't nil," I Interrupted "And you arc Nelly, I suppoio?" and I rveyod the child with enhanced interest.— Her ragged garments hard boro a very legible history—a history ot sharp poverty und bitter suffering. " 0,1 supper. in •cn, and I . very glad, sir !" d glad the light that broke into lie fcatu little Ckrnv behold. beautiful nlmo.st the gentleman called y ed just looked nnd watched and waited for y many days, that T bad almost given up hop ing." .•hen name,and you look ■ did. O, sir, I have st be Willie said y child! 1 have beon out of « P I promised. But r ? and what do you would have gone to y where is Willie with me?" nigh ashamed after the lattor asked, her poverty answered it well question plainly. "Oh, sir, Willie is sick, very sick ; and his face looks so white and 9 trnnge lately, l fear he is going home to mother sometimes. You got better alter you sent me tbe cakes and oranges, nnd Willie bought ine some medi cine with the money you gave us, and we paid the rent six months, so the woman let stay there. But one day. a month ago, Willie all day in the cold rain selling papers, and lie's been growing worse' and worse, and he's altered, you'd hardly know him. But he badly, und he talks about I wanted to see y it nil the time 1h his sleep, and for the last three d..ys lie's grown almost wild about it, and so I've been out keeping watch for you all day ; and I could not bear to go home at night, lor Willie would spring up in the bed and cry loud, "Nelly, have you ceeiHtitn ?" and when I shook my head, he would lie d( such a look I would go off i -cry »11 alone, it made my heart who it. But to with corner, and to see glad I Oh, Willie will bo nii.: '• plenstf. sir. wont y go and I see, Hattie, that your eyes irre growing moist with tears, ami if you could have heard the simple, touching pathos wilh which that fair child told her sad story, you would have nnswored ns I did. , Nelly, I will go I, "Y brougl.thi a !" V ^ 4'VO glided The little hand w up the dilapidated stairs little girl broke into that old attic chamber, inking the •fully withdrawn tlie lier eagerno bare walls ring again— brought him ! I'te broi The dying daylight looked with ilc into the ri ■ ; : r , him !" et, solemn * destitution :iled to child's head ;. I had lifted fr« miotner, tor iniscrable mattress in ward—a pair ot attenuated eel out, nml those large burning eye fastened a moment upon my face, as though life and death rested upoi:,their testimony. " Yes, yes, I knew you would l the little cold hands were wrawiH m .„.I O, l have watched and prayed, and 1 hoped so long, and it ueoaed to tie as if you I ver come ; but I knew you would to i t night Iiiamrift came to me, look- 1 ing so beautiful, with tie flowers woven nil around her head, and t white robe flowing down lo her feet, and she smiled so sweetly and said : I " My little Willie, he will come to you to ow, and bis coming shall b s u signal, for j then I. too, shol|jcQtno fogjfOiC _ fulling fast on the boy's hr*wn curls ; but a sharp pang reached my heart as he spoku these words. " No, no, Willie, you wote oui v dreaming,'' id, us 1 *lifted up his lead and looked at him anxiously. One glance into the rigid face told me enough—the niotLw had indeed come fer her child. ru quick.''ijfciorinurcd the boy's \ T ellv will behtlom* when I leave a I j i corner. 1 h< stretch I at last," I* neck. would day, lor My " Bend dow white lips. ••Nelly will bPnlone when I leave her; for there's nobody to ttkecareof her, y see, and I want to give hot to you. kind and good, I k her, and look down from her homy in hcav for it ail; and maybe wu shall time to take you t this, and liis glazing ey " Yes, Willie, I promise it mother in Heaven, solemnly. " Nelly, will take c little sister. There, there, mother has come \ Goodbye !" v : will take 'or let her sutler: and mamma will d bless i- j ill promise m a n't see you ; wandered over my face. God, to your i I answered | I aid ; lie I •e, I I I 'i you ?—-quick, foi 1 c d to V have heard what he Kiss tor * Th e little cold «plight Ur That May-day looked into that bare attic, where the beautifui child was lying on the cold a of could j j back to i exceeding 1 f •undering ! tress. " oh. sir, is she dead ?" querried the little girl, with her large, pathetic ey from the dead face to my own. My looks it •ered her, ft " I • back, e . voice wbof ory, will hi the " Willie, Willie, «• me !" she cried out i anguish will haunt tny heart till it has grown then lay b cold e, and little Ellen Evt that , ath t . 'useless # Two days later, in a pleasant p cemetery, the May violets d a child's coffin laid beneath them. have they laid their his bright head, and her brother in my of the ide, ine spring tid crimsoned mantle ov the shadow of n nmrblc monument has falle softly over them. Upon this is sepulchered beautiful child, and wings is bending over him, and pointing up ward. Underneath is graven, "llis mother for him at It w,iis with : ty where to' jilu felt that I gel with Mlight.'' me a fubject.of much perplexi i*cPT mV. ! » V ' child who I always idence hid especially entrusted nil she had earth to brought its soothing balm to whole affection of her deep, rns poured xception of y love. As time her heart, the nature then, with the closer within the foldings of my heart. For a little while I placed her in try, among simple people, whoso curiosity adily appeased ; for I was exceed tbnt the world should izaiit of the part l had borne in her I read well her sensitive nature, time iu ucii :e and mortification if the world knew ie ; and ev •self, she luy the cofln would lie r inglv desir . T er be life history. and 1 knew well there might c her latter life when it would cause her inoyj ■n't. sweetest and di*arest <'f sis till I bud For this re , I did not communicate to y obtained her permission, which I sought iu my last interview with her. I could, of course, have received this at any time, had I .chosen to seek it ; but I thought it would be unfair to obtain her consent to this matter before her mature judgement bad ratified it. After much mature deliberation, to confide Ellen's history the lodyr^i placed entire kfBnfiilence. She listened with intni womanly sympathies w behalf of my protege. Besides this, she a widow and childless: and though by means wealthy, her circumstances that she could surround Ellen with everything her well-being and happiness. resolvcd Mrs. Wbittiesby, boarded, and in whom I interest, anil her at ouce enlisted in necessary She proposed to adopt her in the place of the children God had taken from her ; and to this proposition 1 joyfully assented, for then the religious, social nnd home atmospli would be all tl I wished to be about my El anxious, too, that she should be , for I thought ev when I should ask her a •ould have i : longer dependent upon n time might question, whose wise regulated by her for the past You have often, little Mister, heard me speak of Ellen Evans, Mrs. Whittlesby'a adopted daughter; but you little dreamed that.I had :i great personal interest in all that pertained to Her character and person have developed loveliness which than all that with her childhood prorated. The sister that I shall elegant, accomplished, ore. ihftn all that—and 's eyes grew lustrous with briug you, Hattie, i talented woman ; and the y the ul g clergy st holy light, that beamed their darkness—my Ellen has the ornament of d quiet spirit, which is above all so k price. And history, will y heart ? I guessed well the pang which the knowl edge of my engagement would give you a brother and sister have seldom loved do love each other, und I know it must like bringing another to take your pi my Ellen is very gentle, nnd she w . She knows, orphaned youth, and of d her bsart goes out with " Tell her all," she said and tell her that have heard her y Hattie, y not welcome her to your ; for . But ill never , the atory • affection come between ■ ■I for each other ; great love after you. in that last interview, to without her consent I dare not become y wife. - ' When I tioi.mg eyes ask I tell iter you m to her, nud her ques if I have obtained it, may ready to love and welcomo home ? And Hattie Marshall lifted her brown, tear filled eyes toiler brother's face, and answered, "Tell her, Weldon, that my heart is waiting to welcome her to n vacant place ; nnd it is by your aide /" the WHAT I OWE THE WAR. NATALIE HEATH. ) both standing together, Faith and I, by the rnilroud with dred other women, young mul old ; a crowd of noisy children, We three htin d here ., a half grown lad, all assembled to wait the passing of the train that was bearing filie —t- Regiment on its w/iy to Washington. There was a Company from our vn among them, though they*had started 1 there Inge -day from the Hluto capital ; and many a mother, wife and sister wore in the crowd and waiting the eyes that should —" it might be for y at they were for the d subdued, though be, after all, a tor a Inst look fr her again might be forer it !"—so th very quiet burning with a sort of inward fev lienee for the moeting, that dly brief, si pi ably unsatisfying, excited. Her cheeks glowed, and she stood Um ft this radium picture of girlish grace and beauty. Uutshe had not—only some acquuiut ancea and childhood friends ; so there wub but one flash of regret to temper her exultntiui their bravery, and in the holy cause they w going so nobly to uphold, Ah for ine, I was very sad. My heart ached terribly, because—strangest of ull ret I had no one to grieve for ! "No!" I thougbtbitterly, " there is notone in all the thousands, who arc inarching stondfast ly, day by day, to meet death, if need be, to whom I can say, ' God bless and keep you, and bring you safe home to me again 1'—-not« whom this parting will be the wrenching asunder of heurt-strings for ray own sake." And then came back to me, or rather grew more vivid in my remembrance,—for its image always lay, night nnd day, in the shadowy re cesses of my heart—the love that gono by had made one summer of my life a long, bright dream ot perfect content, without a single shadow of alloy, ment, arose the terrible storm that luuko such utter shipwreck of my happiness. about ? I could hardly . It seemed like some horrible dream, from which there could be no full and free awakening. I lmd doubted him—not for a moment, looked into Cloudlesly Carroll's honest hazel rer did, or could, possibly, distrust him. to slanders and foul those I knew hated Faith h< f hone like stars ; nnd ey here, her br< g in the breeze, Id net but tbiuk it a great pity that she brave young lover among the approach ,'onld cv !• I c had ing volume wh hi.« y til, all in. a How had it tell, even i nightmare eye. And yet I bad listened misrepresentations fr him with all the petty spite of their low, ven emous natures, and feeling ull the while in my inmost soul that he was innocent and true as heaven. In ray miserable pride I had let him hue of explanation, or » clear.mysulf from tho stigma lîliict upoiy* me—fickle, false No go without a i a single effort that m} hearted coquette ! ; and God knew sure I meted, it w j again. Had there been in his st insatiable desire for more tli known my sufferings in tho wean ed ; but there had not; that I ki anger there might have been, at of deep and lasting ; but Well, it was nil ov f lint with whr sured to I heart the satisfied, could lie ha follow it had be Bitter first—sorrow his love lmd been pure cruel into that, mind, that , in iny foolish sclt Quixotic in its high-minded chivalry. Oh ! it had borne falsehood nj the lie they trld j wealth, that he had boasted of having " entrapped the heiress !" I lmd known it worse than folly thinking ot all these far away—I know thought c •eit, almost , its face, —that lie had courted foi I had fell it a lie, ; and yet—well, well, It •! Cloudlesly •here, only I knew that lit was doing good and whatever he might be. standing here beside the ack, waiting to give the "God speed" things ,'ice, wherev And 1 —why I w railroad to the New Jersey volunteers; nnd think of that anil nothing else—and heart, be still ! give enough aching in the past, God knows ! j back let a« respite. Yon have done temptation of face gazing earnestly up tho road, coming, Natalie, I the steam whistle !' the 1 c ' Faith's sw . That " They certainly w " Indeed, Faith, I think "Oh, dear, will they ev been here nt lenst an hour nnd n halt !" __/-five minutes by tho watch !" And Squire Ross, the middle-aged neighbor, who was " looking after us," held up his olil-fash her face. " T ioned chronometer provokingly " Oh, Squire ! But it's five minutes be h st likely, Miss Impatience, if manage to live that long." "Natalie, have your hoquet all . know they'll not stop; only slack six, and they w " And will, iy to throw ; y speed." " Oh, dear," cried Widow Green. "If I only I Oh, if I should knew which side Job miss him after all !" Nellie Gray, who stood near, nnd whom nil knew to have a brother und a betrothed lover on the train, turned pale at the widow's suggestion. " If Will should huppen to be one side, and Malcolm on the other !" she murmured under her breath. " That was the whistle, I know," cried Faith exultlngly. " Hark, that is it again ! They are coming, they are coming for certain, this time !" And she clapped her hands in triumph." The sweeping engine swept on. like the fiery dragon of some fairy tale its eloud-likc, breath tloatingfar behind. Gradually its speed slack ened, "and slow by degress" the train drew near tbo station. There was a sudden jolt, a louder shriek, and the sound of a bell. "They're going to stop, they're going to stop !" Cried Faith, wild in excitement. There was a sudden rushing—the crowd surged up around the passengers wailing plat form. i 1 ' ï ! tlir in stops live minutes !" "T the tender, " Oh, Natalie, they are getting out !" (with a terrible squeeze of my band.) "See, there's Jonny Green, Will Gray, nnd Nelson Hpraugue. Come, come with me, I must speak to him ; he will want to send a last word to Rose—she is sick, you know. Hurry dear," and she dragged me along with her, through the crowd. Suddenly she paused quite irresolutely. "Oh, Natalie, there is Cloudy Carroll 1 Shall we go back ?" But I had grew deathly faint, I " No, Fai'.h, you r She gave me a keen, searching glance. My as calm, though very white. " Well, th«*n, I'll be back in one minute, y know they have but five to stay." And she went off like a shot. Then I crept through the crowd, crouching almost out ot sight, until I stood behind him. I must hear his voie the attempt. toriau voice of the him first, and although I Id not stop. ; I c of take ti , if I died i 1 is— a Captain's iform, and i poor fellow, whoso voico He tening tremulous with emotion. " This is terrible, captain—this having it all again. It upsets the poor fellowB pletely. I believe it would set -, „..crazy to go through with another parting this afternoon. Thank God, it's all too, I guess, isn't it?"' "Over I" he said, and his voice was sadder than I imagined it could be—that voi full of cheer and joyousness ! " is more than over with have had ■ ; and for you Yes, Wil —for it had 's heart to break . it beginning. in coming away ; for there is believe, in the world, who would care to give God-speed nnd Good-bye to Cloudlesly Car roll I" " Your parents, captain ?" " Are dead, Wilson " "No. 5 I _ t of those poor, unfortunate «(/«/-fellows oferea tion, whom ' nobody knows.' " And lie laughed most bitterly. His companion turned away with a sigh. Then something—I know not what— promp te steal closer and lay my hand softly , I not married ?" shall be 1 Y ted on bin " Cloudy !" He turned with a start. " Natalie ! .Miss Elmer ! You here !" "Yes ; I want to say ' God-speed ' und ' Good bye' to Cloudy." " Nothing else ?" " Yes ; I want to ask your forgiveness for the great wrong I did you in never giving you a chance to clear yourself from the slanders of those who hated you." Ilis face grew radaint. "Then you know the truth at last?" His were seeking mine now in a way that made my lips droop and my cheeks flush " And knowing it, sily. ing «•! ; you say notb ' \ , i said very softly ; hut his each syiable; "yes, that if y and love ennght forgive again, nnd will take back what said just awhile ago about marrying—I— y " God bless you, Natalie, my darling !" And there, in broad daylight, in the face of at least three hundred iuquisitive neighbors, and r of kiss twice upon the lips. Rpwever, there J partings ns equally fervent going noticed Faith's eyos, dilated with amazement, marking from the other end of the platform. " I shall Shall you ? Oh ! thank y much to say i " And .* than three times that he drew r, strange soldi 0.1 ud ; only I you from Washington." ! 1 shall have ■ply your father, by the same mail." " Yes. " If I only had something of yours for a to aboutyou. ken. Have you u pair of scis Here is n curl you wouldn't miss. " No ; I will send it to you. Here, take these flowers, I was cutting them for you all the time time, and did not know it. Isn't it strange d good " I must have somethig else—these flowers , peculiar ?" not a part of y property. Can you not spare th is glove. It was off and in bis breast pocket. " All aboard 1 " shouted the conductor. "Good bye, darling! I'll bring home a name for you to be proud of." " God bless you ! Fight like a lion, only— ob, don't get Bliot !" "Never fear. My heart is in your keeping. Once more, my darling, good-bye 1 " Another quick embrace, and he was gone. y voice was mingled with the hear ty cheer that went up from every throat as the train : wept away from t)ie station, nud that my handkerchief kept company with those that waved till the last car vanished In the distance ; but I hardly knew it. My happiness suddenly, that I felt be wildered, almost stupefied with joy. I woke up,though,ns Faith and I walked home together sobered her usual • 3 I think with our middle-aged escort Faith down now, and spoke demurely, habit. " What did they stop for, Mr. Ross, after all ?" " There was something the matter with the engine, I believe, Miss Faith. Quito a lucky chance for sonio folks, though, was it not ?" " Indeed it was !" I thought with a glad thrill. " Indeed it was ! But it chance—it w ces. And oh ! if He will bat help my lover comes home from the grant he nmy—he shall find a wife worthy of the glorious name he hus promised her. And this, you sec, is wuat of God's blessed providen , when God PRINCE NAPOLEON AND THE SOLDIER. sorenz Harte, a relic of the Grand Army of inmate of the Cook interview with thc First Napoleon, County Poor House, had Prince Napoleon. County ngent Hansen, learn ing the wish of the old soldier, he kindly veyed him to the Tromont. His card was sent to the Prince's apartments and the old bowed down with the weight of eighty years, ushered into the august presence. receive bis remarkable guest. There they stood, for a moment look ing each other in the face—the second heir to the French crown veterun of a Prince grasped the old ducting him to a seat, spoke the veteran's heart The Prince arose d the scarred and bronzed of battles. Advancing, the 's band, and, kindly that •erflowed, nnd he. burst if Into tears. To those at all acquainted with the history of the Napoleonic dynasty, neither the kind the emotion of the old soldier will be wondered at. All such well know the remarkable power that the first Na poleon held over the affections of bis soldiers, the wild nnd uncontrollable idolatry manifested by the latter toward the former upon all occasions, whether in victory feat. of the Priuce ! in a to «rail ile Iu that interview, yesterday, tbo veteran "fought bis battles o'er again." The Princo questioned him. and listened with glistening eye to his recital ot those thrilling incidents which had as their hero a Napoleon. The quick eye of the Prince noticed the ab sence of three fingers from one of the soldier's hands. "Where did you lose yo: "In the retreat from Mob ed to the cavalry, and i those villainous Cossacks, a stroke from a lance deprived me of my fingers. But," and the old veteran's shone with the old battle light, "my sabre finished him, sire. Ah, those Cossacks were the most splendid horsemen that I ever saw, but they were afraid of Mural's cavalry, after all." Aud thf old soldier's mind wandered back to that terrible retreat from the burning capitol of the Russians, rounded by the inflexible rigors of n Russian winter, and harrassed day and night by those furious onsets of the Cossack cavalry—those wild and daring children of the plains. Lodi," exhibiting a terrible scar upon bis left shoulder, made by a grape shot. "And this," bearing the calf of bis left leg, showing the mark of u bullet through and through it, "was done at Areola." "This sabre cut upon my head was received ut Austerlitz, and so was this, sire," tenderly holding up tb*. Cross of the Legion of Honor bestowed upon him by Napoleon for special service upon that bloody field. Aud thus the old battle scarred veteran whiled away two pleasant bours-bours fraught with proud and teuder recollections to both Prince and soldior ; nnd when the veteran go, be blessed the muuificence of the Prince which had pressed a well filled purse into liis hand, and given him assurance that la Belle France lmd not forgotten her veterans, and that a liberal pension should bo provided for him .—Chicago Journal. fingers ?" iv. I was attach ? of the charges of he is My she "This, sire, I of i is— all The woolen factories of Rode Island in active operation, nil lag of them TERM8. * The DELAWARE] INQUIRER, is published every Saturday, at Two Dollars a year, payable in advance ; if year Two Dollars and Fifty cents will invaria bly be charged. No subscription will be re ceived for less than six months, and discontinueduntil allarrearages i at the option of the publisher PP paid for ^ill the end of the ' paper paid, unless Advertisements not exceeding a square will be inserted three times fori dollar. Twenty - fiveccntsforevery subsequent insertion. Longer in the samtf proportion. JS&" Twelve linos or less constitute a square Single insertion 60 cents per square, fifet!?* Wants of 4 lines, single insertion 25 cts from tho Philadelphia Press. THE CRIME OF TREASON. The arrests of persons who have aided abetted the traitors, which the exigencies ef the present condition of affairs In country requiring the Administration to make, after it had displayed for a long period «sampled degree of forbearance and lenity, attracting considerable attention. The gener al policy of preventing Northern traitors from extending aid to the enemy, after their desire to do approved by every loyal citizen ; but been action in all matters appertaining to political surprised lms been clearly shown, is cordially have unlimited freedom of accustomed to governmental affairs, that some emergency like tho present, the aiders and abettors of treason should be fatal should re flect that, practically, treason has become, in ntry, tho "sum of qU yillaipjes .' It lias not here the excuses nnd*j)rcTiT 7 <fi'?TT-j^_ it which exist in monarchical or despotic countries; for in them it is almost impossible m dethrone i uler any settled policy, without a resort to violent means and an appeal to arms, while the insii tutions which the traitors are attempting ft destroy afford every desirable facility for peace frequent per Gov that, ev inflicting furlherand prevented ft 1 stabs upon the nation. Such ro ty i dynasties, change ful mid thorough revolutions iodt, in the ; and all and measures of just nnd humane that, even if the most exaggerated statement of the alleged grievances of tho South w strictly true, it wopld furnish no sufficient ground for the infamous conspirncv that has been inaugurated. Wo must remember that treason bas brought unnumbered calamities the whole nation, and that among its comitants and results are nearly all of the vilest crimes and the greatest miseries that have ever been inflicted upon poor wretch who robs a house victim is TBUmmarily disposed of by the ordin criminnl courts, and there his aiders they reap the merited punish - pon them. But what have tho traitors already donc i land? They have inflicted upon it the most serious evils it lias ever encountered. They have not only plundered the national treasury but inaugurated a state of affairs which cessarily robbed confiding merchants and capi talists «if money that can be counted only by hundreds of millions of dollars. They have shocked and temporarily deranged the indus trial system of our country to such an extern that thousands of millions of dollars would compensate all the sufferers for their losses — They have rendered necessary a righteous which will probably cost ft very large sum for its successful and vigorous prosecution. They have compelled the nation, for its self-preser ration, to call into the field an immense array, composed of hundreds of thousands of brave and loyal men, and they baye enticed and forced an almost equally large number sist them in their infamous efforts to destroy the best Government that ever existed, know ing, full well, that in this inevitable strife, many a noble spirit would bo laid low; many a hearthstone rendered desolate forever; and that an amount of anguish and individual suf fering would be caused, which no pen can de concclve. For all this the traitors arc 'directly resp sible. They aro the gigantic criminals of the . They have done infinitely «tore mischief, inflicted greater wrongs and cruelties, arr* enused thieves or murderers that have been, in all the jails and penitentiaries of the United States. The man who, knowing these facts, and living in a loyal community, manifests a willingness, or seeks in any way to aid or abet traitors in their nefarious designs, is the confederate in heart, if not in deed, of the most infamous and most dangerous of and, if be possesses any redeeming traits, he should, when a returning sense of reason and of loyalty dawns upon his benighted mind, be thankful* to tho Government if, by his tenipor ary incarceration, it prevents him from steep ing his soul in the guilt of extending further important aid to such miscreants. It is possihlo that been arrested supposed them to be. But, rule, little faith tions of innocence, for laws kind. The kills a single ary processes of is little sympathy for hi abettors wh ment which the law indicts ' scribe, and no imagination c loss and misery, than nil tho of those who have guilty as their cap a general be put in their protesta "Thus do all traitors ; If their purgation did consist in words, *"* innocent as grace itself." attracts tho at tention of the whole civilized world is a proof of tho activity of the traitors ot the South, aud thousands of circumstances have clearly shown that they have gained much valuable aid in many ways from traitors in the North, nud that for final success upon public sentiment in the North than upon tho power of their armies.* of Moore in Lalla Rookh -ration of these that, hackneyed as they They The terrible drama that they rely a diversion The famous li contain such an appropriate Usuries of rebellion we quote them here : "Oh for a tongue to curse the slave, Whose treason, like a deadly blight, Gomes o'er the councils of the brave, And blasts in their hour of might ! May Lifo's unblessed cup for him Be drugg'd with treacheries to the brim,— With hopes, that but allure to fly ; With joys, that vanish while he sips, Like Doad-Sea fruits, that tempt the eye, But turn to ashes on the lips ! His country's curse, his children's shame, Outcast of virtue, peace, and fame : May he nt last, with lips of flame, On the parch'd desert thirstiug die— While lakes, timt «bone in mockery nigh, Are fading off, untouched, untasted, glorious hopes he blasted ! And when from earth his spirit flics, Just Prophet, let the daraned-orve-dSâüL— Full in the sight of Paradise, Beholding heaven nnd feeling hell ! a a by the Like tbe POISONED MINIE BALLS. of There is tho most positive evidence that used in the rebel d evidence is afforded that they manufactured in the North, members of tbe Indiana regiment, northwest of the Chain Bridge, were discovered a party of about twenty-five rebel troops. Ohr bushes, lay down, und fired together. They killed poisoned minie balls army Last week five concealed themselves in the of the enemy; the others fled, lcav liis dying comrade, ptured.— discovered a number ot , who bung probably a relative, until ho w In his possession w Minie balls, each of which had a deposit of seuic in it, covered with tallow. He w ed what the object He explained that the contents was a poison , many of them yet, and picket from the North received many yet, but ing sk iu using those balls that they had ly used by those sent out ing duty. Ho said they —that they had promised a largo supply. In connection with this, my informant^ a tnftn very reliable brigade surgeon, svys that shot in tbo Fourteenth Massachusetts regi meut, by a rebel picket, whose body, immedi ately after the bail entered liis flesh, swelled up,'and the patient died. The cas nutely described to him by Cupt. Bradley, of Methuen, who is in the Fourteenth regiment Tho surgeon considers, this a dear case of poison, contained in the ball. wu9 mi .—The Borkshi -large hen's eggs, -half inches Hen's K has had a present of measuring eight and eight and around lengthwise, and six and six and five-eights around the other way. T weighed seven and ; L nil -fourth and -half ounces.