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®ljc tUechlg Constitutionalist BY STOCKTON & CO. OUR TERMS. Tbe following are the rates of Subscription: Daily, one year |lO OC W*klt, one year j 3 00 rFor the Constitntiona'ist. Lines TO ONE WHO WILL UNDERSTAND. Beauties there were at the ball to-night, Beauties with powder, patch and paint; Dark eyes swam in their liquid light, Blue eyes plead like the pictured saint, And the giddy note3 of the gay galop Floated, then fled, through the perfumed air; Seldom, I ween, in this world below Mortals are blest with a scene more fair. A nd I sat by, in half-dreamy trance, Striving to read in the Future’s book; Quivering under her transient glance, Thrilling with love at each lengthened look ; Till Hope took flight from my prison clay, And floated in Fancy’s realms above, While her bright plumed wing fanned the motes away That Doubt had cast in the beams of Love. Silenced the cymbals; the dancing o’er; Seeking my chamber there strikes a thrill To my very heart, for beneath the door, In an envelope, lies—an unpaid bill! Prayer and Potatoes. An old lady sat in her old arm chair, With wrinkled visage and disheveled hair, And hunger-worn features; For days and for weeks her only fare, As she sat in her old arm chair, Had been potatoes. But now they were gone; of bad or good, Not one was left for the old lady’s food, Os those potatoes ; And she sighed, and said, “ What shall I do ? Where shall I send and to whom shall 1 go For my potatoes ?” And she thought of the deacon over the way— The deacon so ready to worship and pray— Whose cellar was full of potatoes, she said, “I will send for the deacon to come, He’ll not much mind to give me some Os such a store of potatoes.” Ami the deacon came over as fast as he could, Thinking to do the old lady some good, But never for once ot potatoes. He asked her at once what was her chief want, And she, simple soul, expecting a grant, Immediately answered, “Potatoes.” Bnt the deacon’s religion didn’t lie that way; He was more accustomed to preach and pray Than to give his hoarded potatoes. So not hearing, of course, what the old lady said, He rose to pray with uncovered head, But she ouly thought of potatoes. He prayed for patiei ce, goodness and grace; Bnt when he prayed, “ Lord, give her peace,” She audibly sighed, “Give potatoes.” And at the end of each piayer which he said, He beard, or thought he heard, iu its stead That same request for potatoes. Deacon was troubled—knew not wbat to do ; ’ f was very embarrassing to have her act so, And about those carnal potatoes ; So ending his prayer, he started for borne; The door closed behind—be heard a deep groan, “ O give, to the hungry, potatoes!” And tbe groan followed him all tbe way home, In the midst ot tbe night it haunted his room— “ O, give to tbe hungry, potatoes!” He could bear it no longer; arose and dressed, From his well filled cellar taking in haste . A bag of his best potatoes. Again he went to the widow’s lone hut; Her sleepless eyes she bad not yet shut, But there she sat in her old arm chair, With the same wan features, tbe same wan air; And entering in. he poured on the floor A bushel or more from his goodly store Os choicest potatoes. The widow’s heart leaped for joy, Her face was haggard and pale no mere. “ Now,” said the deacon, “ shall we pray ?” “Yes,” said the widow, “ now you uiay.” And he knelt him down on the sanded floor, Where he bad poured out his goodly store, And such a prayer the deacon prayed As never before his lips essayed. No longer embarrassed, but free and full, He poured out the voici of a liberal sou), And the widow responded a loud “ amen !” But said no more of potatoes. And would you hear this simple tale, Pray for the poor, and praying, prevail ? Then preface your prayer with alms and good deeds; Search out the poor, their wants and needs; Pray lor their peace and grace, spiritual food, For wisdom and guidance—all these are good— But don’t forget the potatoes. The following lines, taken from the Rome Courier , are well understood in that section of the State: “ I II Hang My ’Arp on a Wilier Tree.” By a persona! friend I was caught by the ’and, And was led to a mountain ’igh. And ’e showed me a prospect lhere, And the places were fair to my eye. Bo’ll ’ang my ’Arp on a wilier tree, And never will touch it agin, And X 11 vote for the man what greases me, Because ’e ’as plenty o’ tin. An office I 6aw in that prospect fair, And the picture is ’aunting me yet, For plenty good pickings l»y scattered around, And didn’t like it—you bet. Bo I’ll ’ang my ’Arp on a wilier tree, And never will touch it again, For I’ll vote for the man who showed it me, Because I am after the tin. Oh, General Young is ave y uice man, But ’e doesn’t know ’ow to grease, 82 I’ll cling to the '»il of my persona! friend, ’Till the waters of Tartarus freeze. And I’ll Vng my ’Arp on a wilier tree, And never will touch it agin, And I'll fall in the Radical lines, you see, Because they ’ave plenty of tin. Tons, one by one, do the mighty fltll, When troublesome times appear, Like the Summer vines lrom a cottage wall, When winds blow bleak and drear. So We’ll 'ar g our ’Arp on a wilier tree, And never will touch it again, Jf it chooses to fall in the Radical sea, Why, there we’ll let it remain. A couple were married at Great Barring, too, Mass., on last Tuesday, and on Satur day the husband returned the bride to her rea, lie said be wusn’t in the habit of be ing kicked out of bed by women, and he wouldn’t stand it. She had bit him, too. Women are gelling more and moreaoevery day. I From the Baltimore Sun. John H. Surratt. HIS LECTURE IN ROCKVILLE, MD.—HE TELLS HIS OWN STORY—A VIVID NARRATIVE— HISTORY OF THE ABDUCTION FLOT-BUR RATTS EXPERIENCE WITH J. WILKES BOOTH—WATCHMAN IMPLICATED IN THE ABDUCTION PLOT, ETC. On Tuesday evening Mr. John 11. Surratt delivered an interesting lecture at Rock ville, Md., which we find reported in the Washington Star. Mr. Surratt is well known for his alleged connection with the conspiracy against President Lincoln in 1000, his escape, capture, and subsequent trial and discharge in Washington over a yeai siuce. Since then he has spent a por tion of his time in Lower Maryland, been in the commission business in Baltimore and now has turned up a school teacher in nockville. THE LECTURE. Court House in Rockville was crowded by ladies and gentlemen to hear the lecture. Mr. Surratt opened by stating that when the late war broke out he was a student at St. Charles College, iu Mary land, and only about eighteen years of age, but soon entered upon the enterprise of sending secret dispatches to the Confeder ates by the Potomac boats. INTRODUCTION TO WILKES BOOTH. In the Fall of 1864 (says the lecturer) I was introduced to John Wilkes Booth, who, 1 was given to understand, wished to know something about the main avenues leading from Washington to the Potomac. We met several times, but as he seemed to be vary reticent with regard to his purposes, and very anxious to get all the Information oat of me he could, I refused to tell him anything at all. At last I said to him, “It is useless for you, Mr. Booth, to seek any information from me at all; I know who you are and what are your intentions.” He hesitated some time, but finally said be would make known his views to me pro vided I v.ould promise secrecy. I replied, “I will do nothing of the kind. You know well lam a Southern man. If you cannot trust me, we will separate.” He then said : “ I will confide my plans to yon, but be fore doing so I will make known to you the motives that actuate me. In the North ern prisons are many thousands of our men whom the United States Government re fuse to exchange. You know as well as I the efforts that have been made to bring about that much-desired exchange. Aside from the great suffering they are compelled to undergo, we are sadly in want of them as soldiers. We cannot spare one man, whereas the United States Government is willing to let their own soldiers remain in our prisons, because she has no need of the men. I have a proposition to submit to yon, which I think, if we can carry out, will bring about the desired exchange.”— There was a long and OMINOUS SILENCE which I at last was compelled to break by asking, “ Well, sir, what is yonr proposi tion ?” He sat quiet for an instant, and then, before answering me, arose and look ed under the bed, into the wardrobe, in the doorway and the passage, and then said, “We will have to be careful; walls have ears.” He then drew his chair close to me, and, in a whisper, said, “ IT IB TO KIDNAP PRESIDENT LINCOLN, and carry him off to Richmond.” “ Kid nap President Lincoln!” I said. I confess that I stood aghast at the proposition, and looked upon it as a foolhardy undertaking. To think of successfully seizing Mr. Lin coln in the capital of the United States, surrounded by thousands of his soldiers, and carrying him off to Richmond, looked to me like a foolish idea. 1 told him as much. He went on to tell with what fa cility he could be seized in various places in and about Washington. As for example, in his various rides to and from the Sol diers’ Home, his Summer tesidence. He entered into the minute details of the pro posed cap ure, and even the various parts to be performed by the actors in the per formance. I was amazed—thunder-struck —and, in fact, I might also say frightened, at the UNPARALLELED AUDACITY of this scheme. After two days’ reflection, I told him I was willing to try It. I be lieved it practicable at that time, though I now regard It as a foolhardy undertaking. Ihope you will not blame me for going thus far. I honestly thought an exchange of prisoners could be brought abont could we have obtained possession of Mr. Lin coln’s person. And now reverse the case. Where Is there a young man in the North, with one spark of patriotism in his heart, who would not have, with enthusiastic ar dor, joined in any undertaking for the cap ture of Jefferson Davis and brought him to Washington? There is not one who wonld not have done so. And so I was led on by a sincere desire to assist the South in gaining her independence. I had 110 hesi tation in taking part in anything honora ble that might tend towards the accom plishment of that object. [Tremendous applause! Such a thing as the assassina tion of Mr. Lincoln I never heard spoken of by any of the party. Never ! [Sensa tion ] Mr. Surratt then goes on to show that he opposed anything beyond the capture of Mr. Lincoln, narrating the failure of the abduction attempts, and gives many inci dents of his visits to and from Richmond in the early part of the war. WHERE HE HEARD THE NEWS. Surratt states that he heard the news of the assassination while he was at break fast at the Brainard House, Elmira, New York, where he was registered as “John Harrison.” He was there under orders of Gen Lee, in connection with the plot to release the Confederate prisoners at Elmira. He said: , , , . It never occurred to me for an instant that it could have been Booth or any of the party, for the simple reason that I had never heard anything regard.ng assassina tion spoken of during my intercourse with •hem I had good reason to believe tbit there was another conspiracy afloat in Washington. In fact, we all knew it. One evening I overheard a converaation to that t .ff ec t in the reading room of the Metropol itan Hotel. 1 told Booth of this after wards and he said he ha I heard something to the lame effect- It only mule o» all the j more eager to carry out our abduction plana at an early day for fear tome one should get ahead of us. Arising from the I breakfast table in Elmira, 1 thought ovar AUGUSTA, GA., WEDNESDAY MORNING, DECEMBER 21, 1870. who the party could be, for at that time no names had been telegraphed. I was pretty sure it was none of the old party'. 1 approached the telegraph office, in the main hall of the hotel, for the purpose of ascertaining if J. Wilkes Booth was in New York. I picked up a blank and wrote, “John Wilkes Booth,” giving the number of the house. I hesitated a mo ment, and then tore the paper up, and then wrote one “J. W. B,” with directions, which I was led to do from the fact that, during our whole connection, we rarely wrote or telegraphed under our proper names, but always in such a manner that no one could understand but ourselves. One way of Booth’s was to send letters to me under cover to my quondam friend, LOUIS J. WEICHMAN. Doubtless you all know who Louis J. Weichman is.' They were sent to him be cause he knew of the plot to abduct Presi dent Lincoln. I proclaim it here and be fore the world that Louis J. Weichman was a party to the plan to abduct President Lincoln. He had been told all about it, and was constantly importuning me to let him become an active member. I refused for the simple reason that I told him he could neither ride a horse nor shoot a pis tol, which he could not. [Laughter.] These were two necessary accomplishments for ns. My refusal nettled him some; so he went off, as it afterwards appeared by his testimony, and told some Government clerk that he had a vague idea that there was a plan of some kind on hand to abduct President Lincoln. This he says himself; that he coaid have spotted every man of the party. Why didn’t he do it? Booth sometimes was rather suspicious of him, and asked.me if I thought he could be trusted. Said I, “ Certainly he can.” Weichman is a Southern man, and I al ways believed it until I had good reason to believe otherwise, because he had famished information for the Confederate Govern ment, besides allowing me access to the Government records after office hours. I have very little to say of Louis J. Weich man. But Ido pronounce him a baseborn perjurer; a murderer of the deepest hue. Give me a man who can strike his victim dead, but save me from a man who, throngh perjury, will cause the death of an innocent person. Double murderer!!! Hell pos sesses no worse fiend than a character of that kind. [Applause.] Away with such a character. I leave him in the pit of in famy, which he has dug for himself, a prey to the lights of his guilty conscience. [Ap plause.J I telegraphed Booth thus : "J. W. J?., in New York “ If you are in York telegraph me. “John Harrison, Elmira, N. Y.” The operator, after looking over it, said, “ Is it J. W. B?” to which I replied, “ Yes.” He evidently wanted the whole name, and had scarcely finished telegraphing-when a door right near the office, and opening on the street, was pushed open, and I heard someone say, “ Yes, there are three or four brothers of them, John, Junius Brutus, Edwin and J. Wilkes Booth.” The whole truth flashed on me in an instant, and I said to myseif, “ MY GOD ! WHAT HAVE I DONE ?” The dispatch was still lying before me> and I reached over and took it np for the purpose of destroying it, bnt the operator stretched forth bis hand and said, “We must file all telegrams.” My first impulse was to tear it np, bnt I pitched it back and walked off. The town was in the greatest uproar, flags at half-mast, bells toling.&c. Still I did not think I was in danger, and determined to go immediately to Baltimore to find out the particulars of the tragedy. Bnt here I wish to say a few words con cerning the REGISTER OF THE BRAINARD HOUSE. When my counsel, by my own direction, went to seek that register, it could not be found. Our inability to produce it on the trial naturally cast a suspicion over our alibi. That some of the Government emis saries abstracted that register I firmly be lieve, or perhaps it is stored away in some of the other Government vaults, under charge of some judge high in position ; but this is only a surmise of mine. But the circumstance involves a mystery of villainy which the All-seeing God will yet bring to light. The dispatch I sent to Booth also from Elmira it was impossible to find. So sure was the Government that they had destroyed ail evidence of my sojourn in Elmira, that in getting me in Washington in time for Mr. Lincoln’s death they brought me by way of New York city, but so com pletely were they foiled In this that in their rebutting testimony they saw the absolute necessity of having me go by way of El mira, and they changed their tactics ac cordingly. This is a strange fact, but nevertheless true, that the Government, having in its possession this hotel regester, as well as my dispatch to Booth, and know ing, moreover, by one of its witnesses, that I was in Elmira, yet tried to prove that I was in Washington on the night of Mr. Lincoln’s death, giving orders and com manding in general as they were pleased to say. The gentlemen in Elmira, by whom I proved my alibi, were men of the highest standing and integrity, whose testimony the United States Government could not and dare not attempt to impeach. I left Elmira with the intention of going to Bal timore. I really did not comprehend the danger I was in at that time. As there was no train going south that evening I concluded to go to Canandaigua, and from there to Baltimore by way of Elmira and New York. Upon arriving at Canandaigua on Satur day evening I learned to my utter dlssap pointment that no train left until the Mon day following, so I took a room at the Webster House, registering myself as “ JOHN HARRI«ON.” The next day I went to church. I remem ber it being Easter Sunday. I can here safely say that the United States Govern ment had not the remotest idea that I stopped anywhere after I left Elmira. They thought, when I left there, I went straight through to Canada. It was a very fortu nate thing for roe that I could not leave Canandaigua. Now mark, ladies and gen tlemen, if you please, my name was signed midway of the hotel register, with six other parties before and after. There waa no doubt as to the genuineness of my slgna tire, because the very experts brought by the United States to awear to my signatures i i in other instances, swore aIM that that waa my handwriting. After all this the regia : u, mi ruled out by Judge Fisher because he was well aware If b« admitted limy com | WM it uu end. I could not be Is two I at once, though they tried to make me so. “ The prisoner might have stepped down from Canada to Canandaigua daring his concealment, and signed his name there for the purpose of protecting himself for the future.” It was a likely idea that the pro prietor of a hotel would leave a blank line in the register for my especial benefit.— Need I say that the ruling was a most in f.imous one, and ought to damn the judge who so ruled as a villian in the minds of every honest and upright man. [Loud and prolonged applause] Had Judge Fisher been one of the lawyers for the prosecution, he could not have worked harder against me than he did. But thanks to him, he did more good than harm. His unprincipled and vindictive character was too apparent to every one in the court room. I could not help smiling at the t me to think of the great shrewdness and foresight he accorded me by that decision. At times, really, during my trial, I could scarcely recognize any vestige of my former self. Sometimes I would ask mvself, “Am I the same indi vidual ? Am I really the same John H. Surratt ? When that register was produced in conrt, the Hon. Judge Pierrepont, the leading counsel for the United States, be came exceedingly nervous, especially when Mr. Bradley refused to show it to him, and he tore up several pieces of paper in his TREMBLING FINGERS. He evidently saw what a pitiful case he had, and bow he had been made the dupe of his precious, worthy friend, Edwin M. Staunton. At the time of my trial the proprietor of the Webster House, in Ca nandaigua, could not find the cash book of the hotel, in which there should have been an entry in favor of “ John Harrison” for so much cash When he returned to Ca nandaigua, my trial being then ended, he wrote Mr. Bradley that he had found the cash book and sent it to him. It was then too late. My trial was over. If we had had thst cash book at the time of my trial, it wonld have been proved, beyond a doubt, that I was iu Cananda'gua, and not in Washington city. On Monday, when I was leaving Canan daigua, I bought some New York papers. In looking over them, my eye lit on the fol lowing paragraph, which I have never forgot, and don’t think lever will. It runs thus : “ The assassin of Secretary Seward i3 said to be John 11. Surrait, a notorious secessionist of Southern Maryland. His name, with that of J. Wilkes Booth, will forever lead the infamous roll of assassins.” I could scarcely believe my senses. I gazed upon my name, the letters of which seemed 'Sometimes to grow as large as mountains, and then to dwindle away to nothing. So much for my former connection with him, I thought. After fully realizing the state of the case, I concluded to change my course, and GO DIRECT TO CANADA. l<vt Canandaigua on Monday at 12, ra., going to Albany, arriving there on Tuesday morning in time for breakfast. When I stepped on the platform at the depot at Bt. Albans, I noticed that one of the detectives scanned every one, head and foot, myself as well as the rest. Before leaving Mon treal for Elmira, I provided myself with AN OXFORD CUT JACKET and a round top hat, peculiar to Canada at that time. 1 knew my trip to Elmira would be a dangerous one, and I wished to pass myself off aa a Canadian, and I suc ceeded In so doing, as was proved by my witnesses in Elmira. I believe that cos tume guarded me safely through Bt. Albans. I went In with others, and moved around, with the detectives standing there most of the time looking at us. Os course I was obliged to talk as loud as anybody about the late tragedy. After having a hearty meal I lighted a cigar and walked up town. One of the detective.l approached me, stared me directly in the face, and I looked him quietly back. In a few mo ments I was speeding on my way to Mon treal, where I arrived at 2 o’clock In the afternoon, going again to the Bt. Lawrence Hotel. Boon after I called on a friend, to whom I explained my former connection with Booth, and told him I wa9 afraid the United States Government would suspect me of complicity in the plot of assassina tion. He advised me to MAKE MYBELF SCARCE. I immediately went to the hotel, got my things and repaired to the room of a friend. When my friend’s tea time came I would not go to the table with him, but remained in the room. The ladles wanted to know why he didn’t bring his friend to tea with him. He replied that I didn’t want any. One of the ladles remarked, “ I expect you have got Booth in there.” [Laughter.] “Perhaps so,” he answered, laughingly. That was rather close guessing. [Laugh ter J At nightfall I went to the house of one who afterwards proved to be a most devoted friend. There I remained until the evening of the next day, when I was driven out in a cariiage with two gentle men, strangers to me. One day I walked out and I saw WEICnMAN ON THE LOOKOUT FOR ME. lie had little Idea I was so near. One night, about 11 o’clock, my friend, In whose house I was, came to me and said, in a smiling way, “The detectives have of fered me $30,000 If I will tell them where you are.” “Very well,” said I; •< give me one-half, and let them know.” They sus pected this gentleman of protecting me, and they had really made him the offer. One day, about 12 o’clock, I was told that they were going to search the house, and that I must leave immediately, which I did. They searched it before morning. This gentleman was a poor man, with a large family, and yet money could not buy him. [ Applause.j I remained with this gentleman until I left Montreal, within a week or so afterwards. The detectives were now hunting me very closely, and would doubtless have succeeded In captur ing me had it not been for a blunder on the part of MY FRIEND WIBCHMAN. He had, It appears, started the detectives on the wrong track, by telling them that I had left the house or Mr. Porterfield In company with some others, and waa going north of Montreal Boon that section was swarming with detectives. I waa not with that party, hot about the same time I, too, left Montreal in a hack, going tome eight or nine miles down the Bt. Lawrence river, crosalng that stream in a small canoe. I waa attired a* a huntsman. At 8 o’clock Wednesday morning wa arrived at our destination, a small town lying south of Montreal. Wa entered the village vary quietly, hoping no one would see us. It has been asserted over and over again, and for the purpose of damning me m the estimation of every honest man, that I DESERTED HER WHO GAVE ME BIRTH in the direst hour of her need. Truly would I have merited the execration of every man had such been the case. But such was not the case. When I left Mon treal there was no cause for uneasiness on my part, and upon my arrival in the coun try I wrote to my friends in Montreal to keep me posted in regard to the approach ing trial, and to send me the newspapers regularly. I received letters from them frequently, in all of which they assured me there was no cause of anxiety; that it was only a matter of time, and it would all be well. After a while papers did not come so regularly, and those that did spoke very encouragingly. A little while after wards, when they came, SENTENCES WERE MUTILATED WITH INK AND PAPER. I protested against such actions, and for some time I received no papers at all. I became very uneasy, and wrote for publica tion an article signed by myself, which I sent to Montreal to be forwarded for pub lication in the New York World. It is need less to say that it never went. Things con tinued in this way for some time, until I could stand the suspense no longer. I de termined to send a messenger to Washing ton for that purpose, and secured the ser vices of an intelligent and educated gen tleman. I started him off Immediately, I paying all expenses. I gave him a letter to a friend of mine in Washington, with instructions to say to him to pat himself In communication with the counsel for the de fense, and to make a correct report to me as to how the case stood; if there was any danger; and also to communicate to me if my presence was necessary, and in form me without delay; with an urgent request that he would see and inquire for himself how matters stood. He left me, and God alone knows the suspense and anxiety of my mind during h’s absence. I imagined and thought of all kinds of things; yet I was powerless to set. At last he returned, and so bright and cheerful was countenance that I con fess one-half of my fears were dispelled.— He represented EVERYTHING AS PROGRESSING WELL, and brought me this message from the gen tleman in Washington to whom I had sent: “ Be under no apprehension as to any serious consequences. Remain perfectly quiet, as any action on your part would only tend to make matters worse. If you can be of any service to us we will let you know, but keep quiet.” Just on the eve of my departure to join a party of gentlemen on a hunting excursion, while I was waiting at the hotel for the train, the proprietor handed me a paper, saying: “ RftikD THAT ABOUT THE CONSPIRATORS.” Little did the man know who I was, or how closely that paragraph bore upon me or mine. That paper informed me that on a day which was then present, and at an hour which had then come and gone, the most hellish of deeds was to be enacted. It had been determined npon and carried out even before I bad intimation that there was any danger. It wonld be folly for me to attempt to describe my feelings. After gazing at the paper for some time I dropped It on tbe floor, turning on my heel, and going directly to the honse where I had been stopping before. When I entered the room I found my friend sitting there. As soon as he saw me, HE TURNED DEADLY PALE, but never uttered a word. I said, “ You doubtless thought you were acting a friend—the part of a friend—toward me, but you have deceived me. I may forgive you, bnt I can never forget It.” “ We all thought It for the best, Char ley,” he commenced to say, but I did not stay to hear more. I went to my room, re mained thereuntil dark, and then signified my intention to leave the place immediate ly. I felt, reckless as to what should be come of me. After visiting Quebec and other places, with the reward of $35,000 hanging over my head, I did not think it safe to remain there, and so I concluded to seek an asylum in foreign lands. I had nothing now to bind me to this country save an only sister, and I knew she would never want for kind friends or a good home. Por myself, it mattered little where I went, so that I could roam once more a free man. I then went on a venture ; and now, ladies and gentlemen, I go forth again on a venture. Gladly would I have remained hidden among the multitude, but the stern neces sities arising from the blasting of my earthly prospects have forced me to leave my solitude and to stand again before the nubile gaze as the historian of my -own life. One mitigation to its distastefulness in this and my first attempt, however, Is the kindness with which I have been re ceived, and the patience with which I have been listened to, for which I retorn you, ladles and gentlemen, my sincere and heartfelt thanks. [Applause.] Waltzing is, no donbt, to those partici pating, a delicious excitement, but to the looker-on, who sees the arm of a rival em] bracing the girl he adores, the sensation Is not very comfortable. Henry Englefield has thus expressed the latter’s feelings: ‘J* h * t !. th ®K lrl 1 * dor * by another embraced I What! the balm of her breath shall another man Wate 1 J ln T hlrl b * »“°tber’s knee! What! panting reclined on another than me! Sir! abe’s yours. You have brnabed from the grape its soft bine; From the rosebud von've shaken the tremnlous flew; What you’re touched you may take. Pretty waltzer, adieu I” J Thb Whereabouts of Lemuel Gul liver.—The Boston Advertiser, under the head of “Private Bales,” contains the fol lowing Important announcement: “ Lemuel Gulliver haa sold to William Murry a 2% atory houae on the corner of iiom* ,treet *’ Charlestown, for This settles the long-disputed question ss to what became of this dlstingulaned travel er after bis philosophic researches In the island of Lsputu. lie Is living In Boston, and doubtless studying the curious habits of the modern Athenians.— llUhmond Whig, J. E. .Consul has sold out his InUrast as contractor for the. Brunswick and Albany Railroad to U.TlJiKfi, 7 1 VOL. 29. NO. 51 Inside View of a Boston Bakery. A reporter of the Commercial Bulletin, animated by a desire to earn his bread by penetrating the mysteries of a bakery, se lected one of the dirtiest in the city, and made application for work on a recent Sat urday night. He relates his experience as follows: I had given the baker to understand that I was from New York, and so I dodged the certain disclosure Saturday night would have made, that I was a greenhorn, as in that city no Saturday night work is done, and beans and brown bread are only a Boston institution; so when I went into the shop at 5 o’clock, p. m., though the other hands were averse to taking on a non-union man, 1 was not slow in inform ing them I’d look up the union here at its next meeting. My first duty was being sent into the shop to help clean up the shelves and boxes of broken and stale bread and cake, which, when all was collected— and much of It was worse than stale—was taken into the bakery and emptied into a trough; then a nasty old pail that I took to be a slop bucket, but which, in reality, turned out to be a measure for yeast, was filled once or twice with water and emptied into this mixture of bread, ernsts and cake fragments, and I was directed to “ take the shovel,” then standing in an ash heap near the oven door, and “ chop and stir” this mess ipto a thin grnel. “ Be quick about it, too, and not spend so much time in polishing np that shovel blade.” From this, In my innocence, I was re moving the ashes and dust, not reflecting that “ them ashes don’t hurt nothin’.” This task accomplished, and the necessa ry amount of meal added, gave the gruel a brown bread value. The deep bins for putting this thickened liquid into for baking, were produced, and all hands of us busy painting the insides of them with little brushes dipped In slash that would have hardly stood the test as fairly valua ble for soap grease. This task done, we went to supper, one man, however, being left to receive numbers and give tickets for the pots of beans that were brought in by customers t® be baked in the baker’s oven. THE BAKED BEANS SWINDLE. Returning from supper, I found but a portion of the hands held for duty all night, so the work of filling up the brown bread pans was immediately begun and duly ac complished. At about half-past nine all the beans from outsiders having been brought in, the covers were put upon the trough and four very large sheet-iron flats were laid together on these, and each bean pot emptied of its beans, the pork therein being replaced, for the boss told me “be * carefnH© get each piece of pork Into the right pot. Every woman knows her piece of work as quick as lightning.” All the pots being emptied, nearly, If not more than two hundred. I was told to “be lively and help bring in the snap stones from the kitchen.” Thither we went, returning with the family bailer, none the cleanest, brimming foil of parboiled beans, evidently the very refuse of the market. After strain ing the water off, these were poured npon the customers’ beans and the whole thoroughly mixed. Then each pot was re filled, tbe pork nicely set in, and the balance •cooped into several very large pots, hold ing about a gallon each, belonging to the baker. These were to be sold by the quart, though we did fill some small pots to be sold. Tbns was his refuse, uneatable stock made good by tbe large percentage of good beans gained by defrandlng those who had sent in their bean pots to be baked for their Sunday dinner. * * # • THE REFORTER PUTS HIS FOOT IN IT. "Here, you New York Dutch kreutzer, get out of them mud scows and knead.” “ I can knead as well with my shoes on,” ®ald I, rolling up my shirt sleeves. Waal that; roll up your leggins and I noticed one of my not overclean fellow workmen had “ Jumped ln,” and standing ln the bread trough, was vigorously tread ing the dough with his bare feet. Sup pressing an ominous roll of the stomach I managed to say :— “ What, take off my shoes and wade in the dough ?” “In course, my love; kick off yer skufls and go at It.” ' “ But where shall I wash my feet f” “Here, take a dry rub If you’re so blasted particular,’ tossing me a towel, “and be lively.” Os course I obeyed the mandate. I noticed my fellow-workmen, however, were not “ particular.” even for a “ dry rub,” but my mental reservations and maledictions at that time will be now understood by the boss, when he reads what the Bulletin known about bis bread-making. I certainly made up my mind that I should have to be hun gry indeed to eat the bread from that bakery. ~ * As 1 remarked, this shop had the reputs tion for the reign supreme of dirt sod dlrtv — ww)/>viuv v/4 uii b auu UlibY work, and although there are but few that knead with their feet, there are those living who well remember a cracker baker years ago, doing business not far from Port Hill, who employed a six-foot darkey to walk up and down in the bread trongh. These facts I give that the public may know what is done in the most desperate cases, and to induce greater cleanliness, not only among employees, but among employers. Mince Pies.— The following receipt fbr mince pies, which are now in season, la confidently recommended by a writer In the Germantown Telegraph, after using It for many years: 801 l a fresh beef tongue tender, let It get cool, then chop It flue with one pound of suet, one half peck of apples, two pounds of citron spliced, half an ounce each of powdered cloves, allspice, cinnamon and ginger, three plots of sweet cider, one pint of Madeira wine, half a pint of brandy, with enough sugar to sweeten to your taste. This will make a large Jar /oil. At Cranberry, N. J., a negro named Nix on la not thought so much of aa an orus msnt to society since ha killed a man named Pullen. The Insane JsrseylUs talk of lynchlug the poor, itown-troddiii Afirl* can. Noelety Is In a (earful state when people talk of dulag each a thing for a ilttia pleasantry oa frfrfrilVl'AKyl