Vol. tas o. u
ortb Carina Gazette.
,T. II. & Gr.
MYUdYER,
1
TillMS OF
c year (in advance),.
; months "
iSCMPTldtf:
;
.- 1 125
75
;
TES:!
dtb snextra copy t2 50
CLUB
jl'us (sent to one adih 1
"I, " 40 00
' " -75 00
i k ! I
! t
omft. ialne -25 90 06
and a. nrisniittm of a fi
nnuios (sBiit to on :ul ill"
,vith at extra copy
ami a premium oi a uimoiao, uue $-tu
IJOUO
1
JM TES OF ;
KTTilXG:
square (9 lines solid n
eil) of' insertion V 1 00
tt " l 50
o month 2 50
ttee " 5 00
" 9 00
tlelve " i 15 00
lOimw adyertifwincnts cl
d iii-ropoHion to the
efal notice. peaeent. piurjj than
.semt;Mt.s. 1 I '!
Home TG3
'Horns is the Sacred Ugd
f Our Life."
Vryden.
sent by im
n
Marian tiarlan was on
n the world
-her mother just Ituriet
She was a beautiful,.-ro4i-haired girl,
itli soft, shv eves of viet
ay, and rosy
ps compressed to a time
berond her
as' Ecarcely
lay was tell-
e&rs. x or alter an, te
sventeen, and so Deace
lg her, as he Bat by tl1
:, spreading
is huge hinds over their
blaze, and
iked : 1
'1? nt w li at arc you gii 1 do to e
uir bread and butter, chfll-
4I don't know I havnthfcght. M
do to earn
am-
a had an uncle in New fit who '
'1'es, yes I've heard lift him he
as mad because your mojei'ulit marry
tst exactly to suit hrm, iits
Marian was silent. Ditiiray. wait
I a few minutes, hoping lef uld admit
hndnto her secret mediticsj; bat she
id not, and the deacon wiit, ay home,
tell his wile that 'the lau
gal was
le very queerest creatuf I
ever naa
rue across.'
Ill the meanwhile Mahntas
busy
icking her few scanty I tii:g
e carpet-bag, by the vitrf
uto a lit-
ickering
rr-it t, m iiii; uviiij ihhi
Jl will go to
New York'thkjd to her- j
r small, r.'y y.ih firmly j
If, Rtirir her
ifjretr.er. 'Mv mouiei b m
;v cautJH pleaded .througl.
13 ilall heir
iv lips.
ii, I wi.h mv ueart wou
jittirob so
ildlv ! I am not anv lonjrd
neiL'lanan
lailan; I am an orphan, a
fnlin the
orld, who. must fight life
t Is with
tr own fiiurie bauds.
Lower Broadway, at 7
ikin the
veuinsr! What a Babel
! cashing
rheuls, Imrrying" humanity, tr.;oilom-
i eat
ii the corner of an express of cin;r the
nded vixk and
. ondered khether people eva vtt urazed
ii this perpetual din and vnit.J Iler
ress utiS very plain gray , tith a
halby, ohl-f:isl)ioiip,l little krjr lfcnnet
ie l with black ribbons, andk jueiveil,
.line ner oniv arucie oi oairtctui car
et-bae. lav in her lap. -She
wo hours, and was very, very
'Poor little thing !' "though
aired young clerk nearest 1
iabited a sort of .wire cage un
if gaslights. And then he
up his
en and plunged it into a'perfe
.tlantic
iceau of accounts
'Mr. Evaiis.'
'Sir.'
The dark -haired clerk emercr
....
ne witu ms pen iicmmi ins c
KJ -
lience to tho beckoning fingi.
lerior.
i nave noticcu tnat vounsr w
:.iug here for some time how
iere V
rixpressea on, sir, irom 3iniingtilowa;
lrnved tins aiteriioon.
. i. ... "tr .......
as luonii poor iuarum were a or a
paper parcel.
ilWbomrf
'Consigned to "Walter narrinfrtohsip'
'And whjT hasn't she been called f
IT AT- IT : t
x etui up i" i. i m;iou s ress
to notuv nun some ume ago; l est an
answer every moment..
'Very odd,' said the gray -haired
man, taking up his newspaper.
'Yes, sir, rather.'
kle
J?omo three-quarters oi an nounter-
ward, Frank Evans came to the pallrl'
side with indescribable pity in iii.4ze
eyes.
Miss Harlan, we have sent to Mrjar
nngtoivs residence
Marian looked up with a feveri
rec
upon her cheek, and her hand clasped lit
ly on the handle of the faded carpet
'And we regret to inform you th
sailed for Europe at twelve o'clocklia
day.'
jx Buuu.cu iiiui imo uver ax a nan Up 3
she trembled like a leaf. In alltr
a 3 l.n Un. i r ' f
calculations she had made no allowle
for an exigency like this.
'Can we do anything further for T
questioned the young clerk, politely.
'Nothing no ono can do anything n
1 rank Evans baa been turning a
but something in the piteous tones of
voice, appeared to arouse every manly
suiH-t within him.
fcium 1 send to anv other 01 y
riends V
'I have no friends.'
'Perhaps I can have vour things sent
some quiet familv hotel !'
Marian opened her littlo Je.ither nur
u buuweu luru two ten rant .fl wi
-1 11. j
L smile that was almost a tear.'
'This is all the monev I
tvorld. sir P " -
have m tU
vo ratus.
;ular advi iu
bo young, so beautiful and so desolatcLorl'!
Frank Evans bad been a New Yorker all
Ins life, but bad never met with, an exactly
parallel case to this. He bit the end of
the pen in dire perplexity. 'Bat what are
you going to do !' 'I don't know sir. Is'nt
there a work house, or some such place I
can go to until" I could find something
to do?'
''Hardly Frank Evans could scarcely
help smiling at poor Marian's simplicity.
'They are putting out the lights and
preparing to close the office,' said Marian,
starting nervously to her feet.
'I must go somewhere.'
'Miss Harlan said Frank quietly, 'ray
home is a very poor one I am only a five
hundred dollar clerk but I am sure my
mother will receive you under her roof a
day or two, if yon can "trust me.'
'Trust your' 1 Marian looked at
him
'Oh
through violet eye obscured in tears,
sir, I should be so thankful !'
'How late you are, Frank ! Here?
give me your overcoat "it is all powdered
with snow and '
But Frank interrupted his bustling,
cherry-cheeked little mother, as she stood
tip-toe to take off his outer wrappings.
'Hush, mother ; there is a young lady
down stairs.' t
'A young lady, Frank?'
'Yes, mother; expressed on from Iowa
to Harrington, the rich merchant; he sail
ed for Europe this morning and she is left
entirely alone. Mother, she looks like
poor Blanche, and I knew you wouldn't
refuse her a corner here until she could
find something to do.'
. Mrs. Evans went to the door and called
cheerfully out:
'Ccmo np stairs, my dear you're as
welcome as the flowers' in May ! Frank,
yon did quite right ; you always do.'
Tli3 days and weeks passed on, and siill
Marian Harlan remained an inmate of
Mrs. Evans' dwelling.
'It seems just as though she had taken
our dead Blanche's place,' said the cozy
little widow : 'and she is so useful about
theL house. I don't know how I ever man
aged without her.'
'Now, Marian, you are not in earnest
about leaving us to-morrow V
I must, dear Mrs. Evans. Only think
I lave been hero two months to-morrow,
and the situation of governess is very ad-
vantaeous;
'Yerv well. I shall tell Frank hov.
ob-
btiiiate you are.' ;
'Dearest Mrs. Evans, please don't.
Uaae keep my seciet.'
'What secret is that to be fio religiously
kept?' asked Mr. 1 rank Evans, coolly
walked in in the midtft of the discussion,
with his dark hair tossed about bv the
wind, and his hazel brown eyes sparkling
archlv- .
'Secret!' repeated Mrs. Evans, energeti
cally wiping her dim spectacle glasses.
Why, Marian is determined to leave us
to-morrow :
'Marian!'
'I must Prank; I have no riht further
to trespass on your kindness.'
'No right, eh! Marian, do you know
that the old house has been a different
house sine von came to it ? Do vou sup
pose we want to lose our little sunbeam V
Marian smiled sadly, but her hand felt
very cold and passive in Frank's warm
grasp.
'lou 11 stay, Marian V
'No,'
She shook her head determinedly.
'Then you must be made to stay,' said
Frank. 'I've missed something of great
value lately, and 1 hereby arrest you on
suspicion of the theft !'
.'Missed something 1
Marian rose, turning red and white.
'Oh, Frank, you can never suspect me !?
'But I do suspect 3-011. In fact, I am
ipiite sure tho article is in your possession.'
'The article !'
'Mv heart, Miss Marian. Now look
here d know I am "very young and verv
poor, but I love you, Marian Harlan, and
I will he a good aud a true husband to
-you. fctav ana tie my little wite !'
So Marian Harlan, instead of going out
to be a governess, according to the pro
gramme, married the dart haired vounp"
clerk, m Ellisons express office, .New
York.
They wore quietly manied, early in the
morning, and Frank took Marian home to
his mother, and then went calmlv about
his business in the wire cage, under the
circlet of gaslights.
'Evans V
ies, sir.
t
"Cl 1 .,1 -I" , i.
x laiiR, wnu 111s pen neiiinii h is ear as
of yore, quietly obeyed the behests of the
grav headed ofhcial.
'Do you remember the young woman
wno was expressed on from Milhno-ton.
lowa, two monms emco 1'
'Yes, sir ; I remember.'
- A tall, eilver haired gentleman heria in
terposed witn eager quickness:
'Where is she t I am her uncle Walter
Harrington. I have just returned from
Paris, where the news of her arrival reach
ed me. I want her; she is tho only living
relative left me.'
'Ah ! but, sir said Frank, 'you can't
have her.
'Can't have her ! What d you mean
Has anything happened !'
fYes, sir, something has happened ; Miss
Ulrlaa was raarned to me this morning
Walter Harrington started.
1
To lr a ma t li en ' Via po! V rtoi-cril
'I an't be parted from my only living
relitive for a mere wbim.
't wonder if he calls the marriage ser
vied and wedding ring mere whims,' though
honest Frank, but he obeyed in silence.
'Xanan said the old man, in faltering
accepts, 'you will come to me and be the
daughter of -my old agef I am rich,
Marian, and vou aro all I have in the
Published by J. H. & G. G. Myrover, Corner Anderson and
But Marian stole her hand through her
husband's arm.
'Dearest uncle, he was kind to me when
I was most desolate and alone; I cannot
leave my husband, Uncle "Walter; I love
him!'
'Then yon must both of you come and
be my children,' said the old man, dogged
ly ; 'and you must come now, for he great
house is as lonely as a tomb.'
Frank Evans is an express clerk no
longer, and pretty Marian moves in velvet
aud diamonds; but -they are quite as hap
py as they were inlold days, and that is
saving enough.
Uncle Walter Harrington grows older
and feebler everyday, and his two chil
dren are the sunshine of his declining life.
AN IRISH FABLE.
Tie Fortunes of the Bad and tie Good Sons.
"An' it was onco long ago, in the ould
country," said Mrs. Biddy, "there was
living a fine, clane, honest, poor, widdy
woman, an' she bavin' two sons, and she
fetched the both of them up foine and care
ful, but one ot them turned out bad intire
lv. An' one day she says to him, says
she :
" 'I've given you your liven' as long as
iver I can, and its you must go ' out iuto
the wide worruld to sake your fortune.'
"'Mother, I will,' says he.
" 'An' will ye take a big cake wid me
curse, or a little cake an' me blessing V
says she.
"'The big cake, shure,' Bays he.
"So she baked a big cake and cursed
him, and he wint awav laughin'. Bv an'
by he came forninst a spring in the woods,
and sat down to ate his dinner off his cake,
and a small, little bird sat on the edge of
the spring."
" 'Give ine a bit ;of that cakefor me lit
tle ones in the nest,' says she; and he
caught up ar stone to throw at her.
'"Ive scarce enough for mesself,' says
he; and she bein a fairy, put her bake in
the spring aud turned it black as ink, and
went away up in the trees. And while he
looked for her to kill her, a fox wint away
wid his cake.
"So he wint away from that place very
mad, an' nixti day he stopped, very hun
gry, at a farmer's house, aud hired out to
tind the cows.
" 'Be wise,' say s the farmer's wife, for
the next field is belonging to a giant, and
if the cows gets in his clover he will kill
you dead as a sthoue.'
"But the bad son laughed and wint awav
out to watch the cows; and before noon
time he wint to slape up in a tree, and the
ows all wint m the clover, an out coraes
the giaiii and shook him down out of the
tree an' killed Jiiru dead, and that was the
ind of the bad son.
"And bv the next vear the poor widdv
woman, she says to the good son : j
" ' 1 oil must go out into this wide worruld
and sake vour fortune, for I can kape vou
no longer,' say6 she.
" 'Mother, I will, says he.
" 'An' will 3"0U take a bjg cake wid me
rse, or a little cake wid ma blessing?'
" 'The little cake 'says he. .
"So she baked it for him and gave him
her blessin', and he wint away, and she a
weepin' after him foine and loud. An' by
an' by he came to the same spring in the
woods where the small little bird sat again
on the side of it.
" 'Give me a bit of your cakeen; for me
ittle ones iu the nest says she.
" T will says he, an' he broke off a
'oine piece, ahd she dipped her bake in
he spring an' toorned it into sweet wine;
an when ne bit his case, shure an' she
toorned it into a fine plum cake intirely,
an' he ate an' drank an' wint on liarht-
learted. An' nixt ho come to tho farmer's
house. ;
" 'Will yo tind cows for mo V says tho
farmer.
" 'I will says the good son.
" 'Be wise says the farmer's wife, 'for
the clover field beyant is belongin' to the
giant, an' if you leave in the cows ho will
kill vou dead.'
".'Never fear says the good son; 'I
don't slape at my wurruck.'
"And he goes out into the field and lugs
a big stone up in the tree, and thin Binds
ivery cow far out in the clover fields, and
goes bactt ag u to the tree. And out comes
the giant a-roarin' so that you could hear
the roars of him a mile away; and when he
finds the cow boy, he goes under the tree
to shake him .down, but the good little sou
slips out the) big stone, and it fell down
and broke the giant's head intirely. So
tho good son wint away to tho giant's
house, and it being' full to the eaves of
gold and silver and splendid things !
"See what fine lack cornea to folkg that
is good and honest t An' he wint home
and fetch his old mother, an' they lived
rich and coctinted, and died very old and
nspicted."
What Attracts. It is not vour neat
dress, your expensivo shawls, or your
ringed fingers, that attract the attention of
men of sense. It is your character they
study. 1 If you are trifling and fast in yonr
conversation, no matter if you are as beauti
ful as an angel, you have no attraction for
them. It is the true loveliness of your
nature that wins and continues to retain
the affections of the heart. Young ladies
sadly miss it who labor to improvo tho
outward looks while they bestow not a
thought on their minds, i ools may be
won by gewgaws and tho fashionable by
showy dresses; but the wise and substan
tial are never caught by such traps. Le
modesty be your dress. Use pleasant and
agreeable language, anct though you may
not be courted by the fop and the fool, the
good and truly great will love to linger
bv vour side. i
THURSDAY, AiJGTJST 15,
From the St. Joseph (ilo-) Herald.
ROMANCE IN KANSAS.
A Cheyenne Indian Attempts to Abduct a Far
mer's Daughter.
One of the main tributaries of the Little
Arkansas river is called Running Creek,
at the mouth of which is Jim Geary's
ranche, an old and somewhat notorious
stopping place in the days when Govern
ment provisions were hauled from Fort
Harker to the Indian ' Territory by means
of bull and mule teams. Among the
settlers is a well-known family from Ohio
named Falconer, which consists of Robert
Falconer, his -wife . Sarah and an only
daughter, Bessie, aMhis time about seven
teen years old. The young girl was en
gaged to a young farmer, and had nothing
happened would have been married last
Friday evening. Tho time for the mar
riage arrived, so did the bridgroom and in
vited guests, but no bride appeared. Iler
parents.
lg she was in her room,
went to the door to warn her that the time
for the perfonnanCe of tho ceremony had
arrived, when they found the room empty.
It was early evening and not yet dusk, so
they walked to the window to endeavor to
discover the truant. Their horror may be
imagined vvhen they saw rapidly disap
pearing through the timber on the creek
bank, a man carrying in his arms the form
of a young girl, which from the dress they
immediately recognized as that of their
daughter.
In an instant the alarm was given, and
the' whole party well-armed, started in
pursnit. Within a few minutes they" were
within gunshot of the fugitives, but were
unable to use their weapons in consequence
of his shielding his body with the loved
form of the bride elect. The young lover
was almost frantic, and in his frenzy ap
peared to have gained the fleetness of an
antelope; overtaking the almost breathless
abductor, he seized him, and after a brief
struggle wrested the girl from him, at the
same time f discovering that the abductor
was a Cheyenne Indian, who had been
around the neighborhood for a year or two.
At the same time that the lover regained
his sweetheart, the savage, with ao eel-like
wriggle, escaped from his hold and started
on a keen run down the creek. The pur
suers, however, were too much for hyn,
aud one of thir number brought him to
the ground by means of a well aimed bul
let from a needle gun. It was soon ascer
tained that the red man was only-wounded
in the thigh. He was then taken prisoner
and lodged in a neighboring dug-out, from
which by some means he escaped during
the night, carrying the needle gun ball in
his thigh, and has not since been heard of,
although a diligent search has been made
by the friends of the voung. lady, whose
wedding has been indefinitely postponed
in consequence of an attack of brain fever,
the result of the fright she received.
COUET 1,000 TEARS OLD CLOSES ITS
DOOliS FOREVER.
On July 6tli an august and ancient tri
bunal, the most so of any save the "High
Court of Parliament," virtually ceased to
exist. On that day the Court of Queen s
Bench, which represents a tribunal held
before the king at least a thousand years
ago, sat for the last time, and will proba
cy never sit again. It is a curious cir
cumstance that, reckoning from the, acces
sion of Alfred, in 871 the earliest date at
which such a jurisdiction can be shown to
have been exeicised to the vear 1870,
when the original of the iudicature act
which abolished it was introduced, just
1,000 vears should have elapsed. lo Sir
Alexander Cockburn, certainly in many
respects not the least distinguished of the
series, belongs the melancholy distinction
being" tne last Eord Chief Justice 01
England. Tho jurisdiction of the court,
it is true, is preserved by the iudicature
act, and is vested in a division of the high
court of judicature. And its peculiar juris
diction is vested m that division exclu
sively. But as that great court, which has
existed ever since the conquest as a dis
tinct and separate tribunal, with that high
and lofty iurisdichon which coald on
ginally only bo exercised by the king in
person, and was so exercised ever since the
time of Alfred; as that great cOurt of the
king, inferior only to Parliament in great
ness and dignity, its history has closed. It
has, however, a great history--a history
of ten centuries' duration, closely connected
with the constitution of the country through
a long succession of ages, and associated
with a series of great names and historic,
often tragic, events. Jjondon 1 imes.
How They Died. Augustus chose to
die in a standing position, and was carefu
in arranging his person and dress for the
occasion. Julius Caesar, when slain by the
conspirators in tho capitol, concealed his
face in the folds of his toga, so that ". his
enemies might not ee the death-pang up
on his countenance. Siward, Earl of
Northumberland, when at tho point 0
death, quitted his bed and put on his arm
or, saying : "It becomes not a man to die
like a beast." Mario Louise, of Austria, a
short time before she breathed her last, h&c
fallen into an apparent sound slumber, and
one of the ladies in attendance remarked
that her majesty seemed to be asleep.
".No, replied she, "I could sleep if I
would indulge repose, but I am sensible 0
the near approach of death, and I would
not allow myself to be surprised by him m
my sleep; I wish to meet him wide awake."
Lord Nelson, on receiving the fatal shot,
said to Captain Hardy: "They have done
for me at last, Hardy; my backbone is shot
through;" and had the presence of mmd
while earned below, to take out his hand
kerchief and cover his face, so as to con
eeai ms tears irom tne , gaze 01 his crew.
And last of all, the great Bonaparte died
in Ins held marshal s uniform and boots.
which he had ordered to bo put on a short
time previous to Lis dissolution.
Old Streets, Fayetteville,
1875.
I From the Pensacola Gazette. J
DREADFUL TRAGEDY IN BALDWIN COOTY,
ALABAMA.
A Neighborhood Yendetta Fought out.
Partial reports of a terrible occurrence
near tho line of tho Mobile & Montgom
ery Railroad, reached us by telegraph
from the junction on Tuesday morning,
but we could learn nothing definite. Yes
terday we were called upon by Mr. W. J.
Van Kirk, of Milvue", a surveyor who was
on duty near the scene of the tragedy, but
not a witness of its occurrence, lie visit
ed the battle ground, however, was present
at tho funeral of tho victims, and gave os
au intelligent report of the dreadful aflair.
(rreenberry JJryers and James Had ley.
two men of considerable means and both
ge owners of stock, hadi been at feud
or some years in consequence of misun
derstandings caused by the intermixing
of their "cattle which "used" iu the same
range. On Monday Bryers, Sr., with his
son Larry, was plowing about 150 yards
trom the house, when Uadley, or., accom-
lanied by a parW of five others, compns
ng his son "Dink," two other sons, and
bis sons-indaw Bud Pricher and Thomas
Stewart, all armed with shot guns, rode
up near the fence and said they had "come
to settle tho matter. Bryers and his son
i
were unarmed, but the father, after some :
angry words had been exchanged, caught ;
up a piece of pme-root, a foot and a hall
ong, and getting over the fence, hia eon
following him, advanced toward the party. ,
As he approached them he was 6hot down
and instantly killed, and his son who ran
to his father as he fell was instantly killed.
Joseph Bryers then came out of the house
with a double barrel shot gun, but both
barrels missed fire and ho was shot dead.
Meanwhile Dink Hadlev rode toward the
house, sjirang from his horse and got bo
und a pine tree to wait the coming of an
other son, John Brvers, who ' advanced
from the house under fire with two guns.
le dropped one of them and sprang to a
;ost in the road which did not shelter
more thau a third of his person, and ex
changed fires with Dink Uadley about
thirty-five yards off, tho rest of the attack-
ng party meanwhile firing on him from
distance. At his second firo Hadlev
fell, got up and attempted to reload, but
?ing Brvers run back and get his other
gun, ho scrambled upon his horse and re-
omed his party and rode awav with them,
John firing into them, as they left and
uindii-g old Hadlev in the shoulder.
Dink Hadley's wound was in the knee.
John was wounded in the head, arm and
foot, but not dangerously. Three shots
struck the post by which-ho stood. While
the fight was going on near the house,
Wylie, the younger son of the Bryers
amilv, ran to where his father and brother
Larry had fallen and was shot down, tho
wound beinir in tho thirh and dangerous.
The summarv of the affair is a father and
wo sons murdered and two sons wounded,
on one side, and on the other, a father and
one son wounded. We are told that Mr.
Bryers was much respected, being a lead
ing man in religious affairs in tho neigh
borhood, and that Hadlev had always
been deemed a respectable person. I he
dead were bnrried on Tuesday, a large
assemblage being present. No inquest
was held, it "not being thought necessary,
the facts of tho crimes being so plain."
Tuesdav a posse of ten men, provided
with warrants for the arrest of the mur
derers went to the Hadley settlement but
found their residences deserted.
Tho locality of these occurrences is near
the Florida line, four miles west of Perdi-
do station, or about midway between tho
Junction and I ennsas Bridge.
Don't Quarrel. People talk of lov
er's quarrels as rather pleasant episodes
probably because they are not quarrels at
all. bhe pouts; he kisses. He irowns;
slie coaxes. Jt is half play, and they know
it. Matrimonial quarrels are another thing
I doubt seriously if married people ever
truly forgive each other after the first fall
ing out. lhey gloss it over; they kiss
and make it up; the wound apparent! v
heals, but only, as some of thoso horrible
wounds in battle do, to break out again at
some unexpected moment. The man who
has sneered and said cruel things to a sen
sitive woman never has her whole heart a-
gain. The woman who has uttered re
preaches to a man can never bo taken to
hia bosom with the same tenderness aa bo
fore those words were spoken. Tho two
people who must never quarrel are hus
band and wife. Ono may fall out with
kinsmen, and mase up, and be mends a-
gain. Tho tio of blood is a strong one
and affection may return after it has flown
away; but love, once banished, is a dead
and buried thing. The heart may ache,
but it ig with hopelessness. It may be im
possible to love anyone else, but it is more
impossible to restore the old idol to its
empty niche, x or a word or two. for
sharpening of the wits, for a nloment'a self-
assertion, two people have often been made
miserable for life.. For, whatever there
may bo before, thero aro no lovers' quar
reis alter marriage.
Ges. Lee ox Gex. Sherman. When
General Leo visited this State (not long
before his death) a gentleman who know
him well asked his opinion of Sherman's
conduct. This, it must be remembered
was several years after the war, when there
were the same means that there are now o
forming a true judgment. What passed is
given aa follows: .
D. H. General Lee, I desire to ask a
question, which yon will please not reply
to if there is any impropriety in it.
General Lee Ask it, sir.
D. H. Was General Sherman, in his
march through the country, justified, under
the usages of war, in burning our homes
. - - f
1 -"i ' ..- , , . ,.., ,,.."' ' itt! - ' ' "' ' "' i ' " ,.' ' I'Tii'T ' i..'". r" ii. - r t
N. C
over the heads of women and children while
we were in the field t
General Lee rose from his chair, while
his eyes brightened, and said: "No, sir !
No, sir ! It was the act of a savage ! lie
was not justified under, usages of war."
This we have from the lips of the gen
tleman to whom General Lee said these
words. They are worthy of note, and the
phrase that General Lee used in speaking
of Sherman will bo remembered to Sher
man's shame when every other bitterness
of the war is forgotten: "It was tho act of
a
It is impossible that an ill-natured man
can have a public spirit, for how could he
love fen thousand men who never loved one?
When two people compliment each oth
er with, the choice of anything, each of
them generally gets that which he likes
best.
HOW TO FIND OUT WHOM ANY
WILL MAFRY.
PERSON
It don't require any astrologer, a medi
um, or a gipsy with a dirty pack of cards.
It is very simple lies in a nut-shell
and.can be expressed in very few words.
ney are these :
The last person vou would natural lv
think of. "
If a girl expresses her fondness for ma.
jestic men with large whiskers, make uo
yonr mind that she will marry a very
Biua.11 man witn none.
If she declares that "mind" is nil rLa
ooks for, expect to see her stand before
the altar with a very pretty fellow who
nas just sense enough to tie a cravat bow.
If,
on the
have a
contrarv, she declares she
must
handsomo husbaiwi. look
about you for the plainest person in the
circle of her acquaintance and declare
"that is the man' for it will bo. '
Men are almost as bad.
Tho gentleman who desires a wife with
mind and mission, marries a lispino baby
who screams at the sirht of a mouse, and
hides her- face when shn hair n onrMan
knock at the door.
And the gentleman who dreaded any
thing like stronsr-mindodness. PTiilta in th
act that List wife ;is everything he de
tested. .1
If a girl says of one, "Marry him I I'd
ather die," look upon tho affa'ir as settled.
and expect cards to the wedding of these
two jieople.
If a man remarks of a lady "Not mv
stylo at all," await patiently the anoear-
ance of his name in the matrimonial col
umn in connection with that lady's.
And if any two friends declaro them-
serves "menus ana notnino- more." vn
nay know what will como next.
lucre is no hypocrisy in all this, and
uch
marriages
aro invariably the hap-
piest
1 eople do not know themselves, and
nake great mistakes about their inten
tions.
Lovo is terribly perplexing when he first
begins to upset one's theories;" and when
his arrow hrst pierces the heart,- - there is
such a fluttering there that it is hard to
guess the cause.
Besides, man proposes and God disposes,
and it is the "I; don't know what" with
which people fall in love, and not their
peculiarities; which could be given ia a
passport.
LUXURY OF THE ANCIENTS.
Galignani's Mcsseng? has the following:
The excavations at Pompeii are going
on with activity, stimulated by the im
portant discoveries made almost at every
step, and tho quantities of gold and silver
found, which more than suffice to cover
the cost of tho works. Near the Temple
of Juno has been brought to light a house
no doubt belonging to some millionaire of
the time, as the furniture is of ivory, bronze
and marble. The couches of the triclinum,
or dining-room, are especially of extreme
richness. The flooring consists of an im
mense mosiac, well preserved in parts, and
of which the centre represents a table laid
out for a grand dinner. In the middle, on
a largo dish, may bo seen a splendid pea
cock, with his tail spread out, andplaccd
back to back with another bird, also of
elegant ' plumage. Around them are ar
ranged lobsters, ono of which holds a blue
egg in its claws, a second an oyster, which
appears to be fricasseed, as it is open ami
coveied with herbs; a third, a rat farci,
and a fourth, a email vaso filled with fried
grasshoppers. Next comes a circle "of
dishes of fish, interspersed with others of
partridges, hares and squirrels, which all
have their heads placed between their fore
feet. Then comes a row of sausages of all
forms, supported by one of eggs, oysters
ana olives, winch in its turn is surrounded
by a double circle of peaches, cherries,
melons, and other fruits and vegetables.
The walls of the triclinum are covered w&h
fresco paintings of birds, fruits, flowaa,
game and hsb. of all kinds, tho whole m
terspersed with drawings which lend, a
charm to the whole not easy to 'describe.
On a table of rare wood, carved and inlaid
with gold, marble, agato and lapis lazuli,
were found amphorae still containing wine,
and some goblets of onj'x.
Correspondence.
FOB THJ Oiimi.
Reminiscences of a Sojourn of Many Years in
the rnncipal Empires and Kingdoms of Europe
NUMBER LXXIV.
Messrs. Editors : Florence is a most
beautiful city : the very large and splendid
palaces and other kinds of public bnild
WHOLE KO. 104.
ings, the fine streets, the many squares,
theSplendid bridges, the great cathedral,
the many churches, he public gardens,
tho galleries of paintings, the beautiful
architecture, the river running through the
city, the great park, tho corso, the broad,
hard roads, with stone walls, leading from
the city, the environs (not surpassed by
those of any ciiy)tho convents and mon
asteries that surround the city, tho villas
at a distance all combine to make Flor
ence one of tho most attractive cities in
Europe. .
The late Ducal Talace is the most
unique bu-Iuing in tho world. It is called
I'alas Pitti, and is exactly the form of a
horse-shoe. It is built of unhewn etouej
at each end of the building, one-third dis-'
tance from tho end of the shank of tho
shoe, is one story; then thero ia another
story which commences one-third from tho
eud; finally there is the third fctory, which
occupies the centre, or the curvo of the shoe. s -In
the rear of Palace Pitti are the Boboli
Garden?, which are splendid; there one can
almost Use himself; in garden there
are statues, fountains, walks, lakes, bow
ers, and waterfalls. On Sundays it was
thrown open for the 'rabble for as such
the Grand Duko looked upon the people.
There were two soldiers with fixed bavon-
ets, ono on each side of tho gate as "you
passed through and entered the garden,
where thero were any number of spies and
police. I never could cnjjiy raysetf m thi 3
garden, where we wero rJl let" in like a
diove of swine,.and were followed "up and
watched by hirelings; there were 110 seat3, '
and if we sat down, we had to -do as thou
sands of women and children did sit on
the ground. I never came 0utoftli.1t gar
den that I did not feel myself doTadcd.
In this Boboli is an old amphitheatre that
has been cleaned up and re-seated; the old "
deus which once held the wild beastsemp- '
ty sow, of coarse have been put in good
repair, to preserve them from any farther
decay, and show ns what wero sorno of the -r.
customs of former times.
My teacher of languages, who was a pro- :
lessor at court, was kind enough to obtain -a
permit and go with us to the Palace Pit
ti; we went all through this quaint- look
ing but sjdendid building, except the pri
vate apartments. I know that there aro
sonic who claim "that the collections of
paintings in Florence eclipse any other
collections in the world. " I admit that they '
are very fine- that there is nothing liko
them in England, Prussia, Denmark or
Holland; for they contain Titians, Micha
el Angelos, Raphaels, Corregios and the
works of other old masters Bat there is
the great gallery of Munich, Bavaria, hav-
ng no less than eight splendid Mun'los
esides its Raphaels, Rubens, &c, find
there is the splendid gallery of Saxony, at
Dresden, and the Louvre in Paris. Tho
collection of antique statues al Ptoreiico is
Apollo, the Wrestlers, and m.iiiy olhcra
that are perfection. r ; -
I am well aware that it is the custom
to pretend that there are no pr.iutnig-j to
equal those of, tho old masters, and tho
feeling relative to antiqie statuary i.i still
stronger, it nemg generally conceded that
;ne sculptor of tho present day cannot pro-'
luce anything to compare with the antique,
and I am confident that if ho were to pro
duce work no better than sonic antique I
have seen he would bo looked upon u.3 no
sculptor. I am unprepared lo go into ex
travagant praises over tho collections at '
Florence, although many persons have'
contended that all the line ans of the rest
of Europe combined cannot .compare with
thoso of Florence for a high order of merit,
yet I do believe that 'they are unsurpassed.
Thero are several palaces at Ilureucc,
which it would be. wethfor strangers Co vis
it; for instance, tho old Medici palace.
which is now called liiccardi. Another
very interesting palace to vbit u'palaco
btrozzio; but it one wishes .a, real, treat lot
h rn visit tho old Scnate-HouA. It ii sit
uated on Piazza ded Granduca. It is" im
possible to say what is the order of archi
tecture of the exterior of this building, bat
the interior is full Gothic, and to say that
it is beautiful is but faint praise. 1 never
have soon any interior, to ezcel it. It is
difficult for me. to say, as I h ive soon so
much fine 'architecture of the various or
ders, but I believe that it excels any iu Eu
rope. Not for its vast proportions, for it is
not a very largo interior, but for its great
and beautiful columns, its grand and grace
ful arches, and its elaborate carvings."
Torolurn to the -fine arts, I havo ne
glected to say that thero is a collection of
paintings of some four hundred painters,
some of them the portraits' of tho most cel
ebrated pajintevs in Europe, which wero
executed by themselves. Besides, there ia
to bo seen at Florence the collection of an-.'
tiqne bronzes, which is." very line. There
ia also a very fine collection" of geras, med
als and various other things that tend to
compose a splendid muuoma. All -thoso
things. are tos be seen only on certain days.
There is an academy of liao arts at Flor
ence, which has a 'very fine gallery of old
Florentine paintings. Here, as iu Germa
ny, it ia easy for the student not advanced
to be admitted, as tho galleries are free to
them. Besides theso. faciliiies there are
well-arranged night schools For drawing;
which are attended by scdioh'.rs. from all
countries and all ages and belli sexes. In
the winter they aro opened from 7 o'clock,
in tho evening until 10. One week a man
stands as a model, and tho next, a Vwomnn
or girl. They are always nude, .but- eve
rything is conducted with tho utmost pro
priety. These persons who act as model
aro very well paid. "VovA7KRt ;
undoubtedly ol a very high order, cornnri
dim. nmrtn.. .ll.n.i. il.li. .-1.t .1
aiuun UUJC1S, U1U 1 J.'lllClllg A' UWK, 1110
Niobe group, Venus do Medici, the vomv