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“GALLAHER’S INDEPENDENT,” PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY AT QUITMAN, OA,, J. C. GALLAHER. TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION TWO DOLLARS per Annum in Advance. THE MILLIMU. BY 3. A. AULLS. J*ne Jenkinp vu a milliner, A splitter tall and slim, Who pinna**! hrntnelf on pluming hats With plumes and feathers trim. She wore her hair in cork screw curls; She had a ruby nose: Though fiow’rs ami ribbons she displayed, She had, alas! no,beaux. Her little store was o’er a store; She kept the latest styles; Her bonnets all were wreathed in flowers, Her face was wreathed in smiles. An old “foundation” she would take, Then all her art would bring To reconstruct a “perfect love;” “A gem,” “a splendid thiug.” How deftly she would tic a tie, Though she was often tiled; Thu ladles all cried out, “Oh rnv !” When they hear work admired. But ah! she mourned her single lot; Hhe felt she was unsought; A cypher; yet she sighed for one Who would not count her naught. Auspicious fate ! at length ’Squire Jones, A batehelor forlorn, A modest-minded, model man, Came m one pleasant morn. His niece had sent a bonnet down To be “done up” atraitway; And he must get it without lail, She could nut wait a day. He states his errand; oh that smile! It makes him feel so queer; Aud when the price was named to him baid he, “youre eery dear!" Her bosom heaved with wildest joy; He shook with vauge alarms; Khe stammered, sighed, then swooed away, And sank into his arms. ‘•Help, help, a tit’’’ he loudly cried, And fanned her with a glove; Then dashed some water in her face, But sue was dead in love. She soon came to; came others too To see what meant such noise; And soon the shop quite overflowed With women, men and boys. “I’m thine till death.” she sighed; said he, “What mean these words I hear?” “Oh, Mr. Jones, how can you ask? You told me 1 was dear." “Oh, Heavens ” he cried; “the price I meant— l had no thought of you! But I surrender; I discern What w oman's wit can do. “Your lot’s a lonely one at best, And mine’s a lonely life;— A partner I will be to yon, Aud you shall be my wife. “Let’s wed at once,” and wed they were; As down life's stream they glide, They feel, though single heretofore, They now float with the tied. [From the Baltimoju Sunday Telegram.] BOMBARDMENT OF FREDER ICKSBURG. A RKMI VWCFA’tE. BY I). F. The morning of tho 14tli of De cember, 1862, was ushered in l>v tin) thun dering roar of artillery that beMii and fortli 6re, and smoke and iron hail those “avaunt couriers” o? death and misery—on the doomed city of Fredericksburg, .So, after along season of inaction, waiting for the pontoons*—that seemed would never come, but came at last; even at the elev enth hour—the ball was opened by the Army of the Potomac. And right royally did they commence the fun, as peal on peal, aud salvo alter salvo of the cannon rang out on the morning air, making the Welkins ring, and the old hills and valleys re-echo with the fearful clamors of war ! We were that morning aroused from our tefits by a verbal summons, instead of the regular revelilc of the, “ear-piercing life and spirit-stirring drum.” This was done for fear of attracting the attention of the enemy. Asa soldier is always supposed to be ready for any emergency, very little time elapsed ere we had our horses bridled, .unhitched from the picket line, and march ing in column of twos to water. The wa tering p. ocess was of short duration, for the brook was not many hundred yards from camp; and the weather being cold and frosty, the horses drank but little, tin our arriv lin camp orders were given to “harness up and hitch in,” and feed our horses from the nose-bags, so as to be ready to move at a moment's notice. Af ter executing these orders we then attend ed to No. 1; taking a hasty breakfast of hot coffee, hard tack (pilot bread,) and a junk of “salt horse,” as the boys termed the daily ration of boiled beef, which was is sued to them alternately with fat pork. By this time, “the grey-eyed morn was smil ing over the frowning night,” but still, the cannonading was kept up incessantly, while we were anxiously awaiting orders from the command to advance, and take our turn in the fight. None but a soldier can understand the trying ordeal that is undergone while within hearing of the din of battle, and having to stand inactive, ex pecting every moment to see a mounted orderly in full gallop with a peremptory summons to advance to the front i To many, it is the signal to march onward to fame and glory; to others, the dread com mand to rush into the very jaws of death and never return. About nine o’clock A. M., the long looked-for order came, and we were on the march for the battle field. A dense fog hung over the landscape, leav ing little to be seen save the ground under our feet. When near the line of battle, a battery passed us to the rear. The guns were begrimed with powder, and one of them was dismounted and trailed to the gun carriage by means of a prolonge. This was the battery we were going to relieve, which was very encouraging by the way, but we found, on inquiry, that the cause of the disaster was not by "the enemy, but by the rapid firing and rebounding of the car riage on the hard aud frozen ground. On arriving at the front we took Our position *‘en battery,” and commenced firing. Af ter some random shots we soon got range of the ill-fated city, our position being right over it on the northen bank of the Rapahannock. The firing was continued till about two o’clock I’. M., and, strange to say, not a solitary shot was returned by the enemy up to that time. At last a gun was discharged from beyond the town, send ing a shell, which burst about ten yards in front of us, the fragments passing harm lessly over our heads to the rear. When I say our fire was not returned, I refer strictly to artillery, as the rebel intantry were tyring with deadly precision from the houses and barricades along the southern bank of the river on our men, who were struggling bravely to throw a pontoon bridge “over the water to .Johnny;” in which they utterly failed, for it was im possible to stand the showers of bullets that were cutting the poor fellows down VOL. I. like grass before the scythe. It was then “the forlorn hope” of creasing the river in boats, with detachments, was resorted to, And now commenced the excitement! Col. (Polly) f Hunt, chief of artillery, rode up to our battery, ordering us to concen trate our fire on certain houses where the rebel sharpshooters were concealed, deal ing death and destruction among our brave fellows. As the boats were crossing, some of the men were wounded, but the mo ment they landed and were rushing up the bank, many of them were shot down never to rise again, their dark blouses oansing them to Look like black lumps on the deso late shore. But our men being constantly reinforced by the landing of fresh detach ments, the town was taken by storm and the laying of tlie bridge accomplished. Now began the dreadful carnage! The night hail thrown her dark mantle over friend aud foe, but still the deadly strife went on. Some shouting out above the roar of musketry and clash of arms, —go in, company “l I" while others cried out murder ! as they were pinned to the walls by the bayonets, or clubbed to death by the muskets of the victorious. It was my lot during the war to he pres ent nt many a w ild and terrible struggle, but this fearful scene shall never be erased from my memory. It thrilled the blood of the stoutest heart, tilling the soul with an unearthly, sickening horror of man's inhumanity to man. But such scenes have been enacted since the world was first inhabited, and will be again and again till the last trump shall sound— “ Tfis true,'tis pity ; anil, pity ’tie, 'tis true." In view of these sad, but nevertheless truthful realities, olio is naturally led to think what is this so-called civilization of ours that cannot substitute this more than barbarous method of settling the difficul ties of nations with something more wor thy of Christianity. As it is now, man appears neither more nor less than a white ; washed animal, that needs but the slight ! eat provocation to fling off the tliinsv mask ! of refinement, and assume a more brutal | and blood-thirsty nature than the fiercest i tiger in the jungles of India. And this | miserable condition of humanity springs i from the disobedience of the two great commandments —love of God and of our j neighbor. Hence we are selfish, ambi i tious aud revengeful. Let us hope that a ! new era may dawn upon the World when I enmity between individuals and nations i may be looked on as a thing of the past, land that peace and good will may reign forever in the hearts of all mankind. The day after the bombardment the ' whole army crossed the Rapahannock, and |ns the infantry advanced up the heights I they were cut to pieces by the cross-fire, iof the rebel batteries. But our men pressed on in regiments and brigades across the railroad and up to the ramparts of the | enemy that literally bristled with bayonets I and cannon. It was a useless sacrifice of ; human life, as the splendid position of I the Confederate forces rendered it im ! possible to carry their works, or force them to come out and fight in the open field. As to getting our guns in position, it was out of the question. I remember B‘eing one battery—the (Sixth Wisconsin. I think—without men enough to drive the horses, as the drivers and canuoniers were nearly all slaughtered in the vain attempt to return the fire of the enemy. I In a word, the whole army of the Potomac ! was disastrously defeated and driven back ; to the verge of the river in a hopeless mass, without during to advance or re- I treat from it* perilous position for fear of being enfiladed by the now victorious foe. The night subsequent to the defeat of the Union army, the Confederate chief tains held a council of war to determine the next best move to complete their vie toiy by annihilating or “bagging” up the entire Yankee forces in front of them. The brave and chi v alrous “Stonewall” Jackson was present on the occasion, but sat silent and motionless, as if asleep, w ith his old slouch hat drawn down over his eyes, apparently indifferent to all around him. As opinions were given and re ceived the scene became intensely ex citing. At last “Stonewall” was called on to ex press liis ideas on the subject. Ha curtly replied, without stirring from his seat or removing his hat—“drive ’em into the river!” For some unaccountable reason or other his suggestion was not acted upon; if it had 1 fear that, same river would have been glutted with the bodies of tlie living and the dead. That night—probably while the council was in session—-a rumor was set afloat among our men that a grand charge was going to be made by the Ninth Army Crops on the rebel fortifications. Of course the w ildest conjectures weri formed at this startling announcement, when the command was given in a whisper to fall in, and, as the column set in motion wheeling to tlie right over the bridge, then, -a tie- first time, we knew we retreating. Even at that trying moment, when de tails of men were throwing clay on the bridge to deaden the sound of the artillery —“for fear the very stones might prate of our whereabouts” —a rollicking friend of mine, an Irishman of course, described to me a very ludicrous figure which I would be likely to cut in case the enemy opened fire on us while crossing. I happened to have on a very large overcoat, which nearly trailed the ground, and my Hiber nian friend, attracted no doubt “by tlie tail of,my coat,” was tempted to say “that at the first shot from the Johnnies, my head would be far in advance of my feet, putting for the rear with my long-tailed coat flying behind me, inquiring vocifer ously how far it was to Washington !” The shades of the friendly night saved us from sharing the fate of the Austrians at Austerlitz, who were butchered while i retreating by the first Napoleon. And so the army of the Potomac returned from whence it came, with wiser but fewer men. I had an opportunity, while our troops were in possesion of the town, of witness ing the excesses of a rude soldiery as rushed wildly through the deserted houses, destrovirig mngnifiicent libraries, and drumming, with rough untutored hands, the grand pianos, on which but a few hours before the fair daughters of Freder- I icksburg discoursed most exquisit musics j Barrels of flour, pork, articles of wear- I ing apparel, cooking utensils,in fact every i thing thatcould not be used on the moment, was ruthlessly flung in the streets and I trampled under foot, denoting the full | sway of unbridled license, and the red de j vasting hand oi the demon of war. Xhe ; town was literally gutted. The houses j. riddled with shot and shell, and to add to the desolation of the scene, uot a solitary i inhabitant was visible, as all received QUITMAN, G.V., SATURDAY, MARCH 28, 1874. warning to leave twenty-four hours before the bombardment commenced, particularly the women and children. The reader may imagine my astonish ment then at beholding the strange sight of a woman, with three little children, coming up from a cellar where they lay concealed in fear and terror, while the deadly mission of the fierce cannonade shrieked and crashed around them, and the wild shouts of the combatants and the groans of the wounded and dying rang iu their ears. It afforded me and a comrade soldier the greatest pleasure of our lives to be able to assist her aud the little children, who were bitterly crying for their father, that perhaps had fallen in the battle. The children, two boys and a girl, were very young and helpless. The oldest boy was staggering along with his little brother iu his arms, while the poor mother was striving to wheel a barrow on which was a large feather bed and bedding, with the little girl sitting on the top. The poor woman's object was to get into our lines to seek protection and sustetinnee, which I am lmppy to say was granted her. The bridge across the river being long, and the northern bank very steep, the des titute little family could never succeed in making the journey alone. So my friend volunteered to wheel the barrow, while I relieved the boy of his infant brother, and, enrrving him in my arms, wo landed safely on the other side with our forlorn Charge. Had I been the most distinguished gen eral of the army, and succeeded in win ning a brilliant victory, I could not have felt prouder on parting from that poor mother and her little ones, as she prayed to A1 nighty God to save us from the dan gers and perils of the battlefield. I think her prayer was heard, for myself and comrade escaped from the slaughter without, receiving a wound. And through the dark period of the re bellion, which now seems to me like a weird dream, is passed and gone forever, yet there are many thrilling incidents that oceured during that time that J shall never forget; in some of which I took an active part, while in others I Was but a mere looker on; but foremost in my mind, of all my adventures of the war, is the bombard ment of Fredericksburg and the. miracu lous escape of the desolate little family from its ruins. *M:my attribute Burnside's defeat to the delay occasioned by the nou-arrival of these boats. fCalled so for Ms almost motherless kindness to tin: men under bis command. Jia'thnore, March It, 1874. -*** Cause of the Late War. Judge John A. Campbell, in a letter to Col. Geo W. Mnmford, refers to the ques tions which have sprung from the Adams eulogy of Mr. Seward. Judge Campbell thinks that if the counsels of Mr. Howard had been followed, war would have been averted. It is his opinion that Mr. Sew ard alone, of Mr. Lincoln’s Cabinet, shed a raj'of light iu the darkest hour of the Republic, and that he earnestly desired the maintenance of the peace of the Unit ed States. Wlmt was regarded at the South as indecision of Mr. Lincoln a Cabinet, was the effort of tlie fiercer el. - ments who called fora display of what was termed in tlie cant of the day, “Jacksoni an energy,” to overrule the more concilia tory policy of Seward. What was regarded at the South us a broken pledge of the Lin coln Administration that affairs at Charles ton harbor should remain in statu quo was simply a victory of those who desired a war which might lead to emancipation over those like Mr. Seward, who desired an amicable adjustment consistent with the honor of the North and South. Judge Campbell may be correct in the belief that had Mr. Seward’s advice been followed, an immediate outbreak of war between the South and tlie North would have been prevented; but even this, we con sider a service hardly worthy of recogni tion. Many of the Southern States had already withdrawn from the Union when Mr. Lincoln’s solemn compact was violat ed, and it is barely possible that delay and subsequent reflection would have brought them back voluntarily, or prevented other States from joining in I his revolution. And that war was inevitable upon a per sistence of the Southern States in the course they laid marked out for themselves, wc have not. a doubt. This is evident from the fierceness of Northern fanaticism at the time, and the arrogance with which their public men, including Mr. Seward, declared the rebellion would be crushed out and the Union restored in less than sixty days. This was the general boast, and Mr. Seward’s positive assurance in his diplomatic intescouse with foreign gov ernments. When we look back at events, it is clear to us that separation and war were but questions of time. The. agitation against the South, which had been pro gressing step by step for thirty years, had at last become strong enough to take pos session of the government and wield its powers, as was often declared, for the final extinction of slavery. Honor, manhood, interest, everything held dear by the South, were at stake, aud it became evident that the Union and peace could be preserved alone by the sacrifice of them all. We hope Judge Campbell does not ad vance the opinion referred to above with the view of qualifying the verdict of histo ry on the public career of William H. Sew ard. He was, from the beginning, the arch agitator in the war upon the domestic institutions of the South, He was the au thor, or friend and active abettor of every measure, opinion, or sentiment that made the Union odious and intolerable, and finally drove the Southern States into rev olution. He was the satanic head-centre of the whole infernal crew, whose vocation and delight for twenty years was to insult the South, breed discord among a united people, and make the government hateful to one whole section of the Union. If his torians assign him any other place in American annals, they will write down a libel and a lie.— Atlanta Hernia. It is related of the late Senator Wigfall that on the collapse of the Confederacy, while crossing the Mississippi to make his way into Mexico, in the assumed character of an ultra Union man, he was informed by a Federal soldier, who was on board the ferry-boat, of the intense satisfaction he would experience if lie could fall in and hang to the topmost limb of' the tall est tree the Texan arch-traitor. ‘ ‘Yes, I too would be pulling at one end of the rope,” vehemently remarked Wigfall. ♦♦♦ Three old boots, a gaiter and a hoop skirt in front of a house indicate that the family has moved. SUNDAY IN RUSSIA. [St. Petersburg Letter ] The hells were ringiug all this morning. But that is so common an occurrence in Russia that of itself would hardly distin guish Sunday from any other day. The shops, however, were closed in all the main thoroughfares. There was a greater crowd than usual in the streets, notwithstanding the snow, which came down iu heavy flukes, though up to a late hour on the previous night the weather would have Been considered warm even in London at this time of year; aud the roadside shrines were beset with more than their usual mul titude of worshipers, kneeling and praying before the pictures of tin: Saviour aud the Virgin. To-day is a festival in the Greek Church, and I have spent the morning lis tening to the Russian service. To say that 1 followed the service would be a misstate ment. Even if my knowledge of Russian were as copious as it is limited —and that is saying a good deal -it would have bean impossible to understand the words of the chanted liturgy, sung as it was, in a tone purposely designed so as not “to be Under stunded of the people.” But by the kind assistance of a friend, and the aid of a translation of the prayers, i was enabled to understand the general outline of tlie ser vice fully as well, 1 suspect, as the majori ty of tho congregation. The whole service is conducted by the priests, and the con gregation, beyond bowing at stated inter vals anti crossing themselves from time to time, takes no part whatever in the cere monial. Of course, my observations are confined to the churches of the capital. In the country, no doubt, things are man aged less decorously, aud, probably, also with more display of fervor. Bnt, just as the service is substantially the same in Westminster Abbey, so the ritual perform ed at tho Metropolian church at St. Peters burg is identical with that in any remote Russian village. On entering the Greek churches of the capital, not excepting even the grandest— that on the Isoao’s place—you are struck with something of the feeling which im presses jou on your first entry into one of our English cathedrals. The space seems too large for the worshipers; the absence of side-chapels gives a certain empty aspect to the vast space. The stage if 1 may use the metaphor as applied to the altar, appears too small for the house; the number of actors thereon too limited for the grandeur of the spectacle. The altar, w hich stands at the short end of the Greek cross which forms the shape of uli great Russian churches is hidden from view by the golden trellis-worked gates, and the priest officiating at the entrance of the Holy of Holies is almost lost to view amid the crowd which throngs the nave and transepts. The walls, indeed, arc cov ered with pictures of the holy Family, the faces enshrined with halos of solid gold, the frames inlaid with jewels and precious stones; but still these side pictures have not the knots of worshipers around them you see gathered about the side altars in Catholic churches; and somehow the eon gregaton itself seems to be e. niposed rather of lookers-on than of partakers in the service performed before the high altar. Scattered all about the church are stalls, at which a brisk trade is being car ried on in wax tupors. No credit is given; and tlie chaffering between tlie hucksters and the customers is carried on with an eagerness somewhat inconsistent with our notions of the decorum due to the fact that the service is going on while the bar gain is being completed. You can buy any sort of taper, from one as big as your fist to one as slender as your little finger; and tho price seems not only in accordance with the size of the candle, but with the costliness of the demand and the presumed means of the purchaser. At the same stalls, too, you can buy bread that has been blessed by the Popes, illuminated lives of the saints to whom the church is especially devoted, and all sorts of sacred badges. But the chief article of this church barter consists of tapers. Having got your ta pers, you may offer them at any shrine you t4iiuk fit to favor. Before each of the pic tures of the Saviour, the Virgin or the Apostles, with which the church walls are adorned, hangs a sort of iron chandelier, fitted with upright iron spikes, on which you may affix your taper. There is a fash ion about these chandeliers as about all other things mundane or spiritual. On some chandeliers there is such a rush that every spike is occupied, and you have to wait till some taper has guttered out, and then you can place your own in its stead. Other chandeliers, again, show a perfect forest of empty spikes to a beggarly array j of candles. Meanwhile, though the service is pro- j ceeding, there is a constant coming and ; going throughout the Church’. People are | constantly entering and departing; there, j are little crowds about the stalls and the 1 chandeliers. The droning singing of the priest swells from time to time, a burst of sounds, and then dies away till it becomes almost inaudible. The incense vessels are j swung to and fro; the heavy fragrance of the spice fills the building, and then passes away; and still the endless chant ing goes on without ceasing. The crowd! which fills the church is a very mixed one. Ladies in furs and sables, with bonnets placed on the backs of their high chig nons and immense “poufs” swelling out their fur-lined velvet mantles, officers in full uniform, Moujiks in sheepskin coats, I common soldiers, nurses, children, beg- j gars iu tattered nondescript garments, all stand side by side in the crowd, which, whether in nave or transept, turns its face toward the altar. There are neither pews nor chairs, nor seats of any kind. Every body stands throughout the whole service. Bowings, crossings, kneelings there are innumerable; but, in as far as a spectator can judge, they are made at no particular point of the service, in accordance with no common signal, but according to the ca price of each individual worshiper. Ever and anon the persons around you drop one by one upon their knees. Some sim ply kneel, others throw themselves pros trate upon the pavement and kiss the stones; other, again, bend themselves al most double, till their foreheads touch the ground near their feet. But the obeisance, ; however low it may be, lasts only fora few | seconds, and, seen from a little distance, ; the crowd looks like a field of heavy corn under a strong wind, in which, though ev ery stalk is bowed from time to time be | neath the breeze, flic mass of stalks still j stands upright. The men are as decent to ! outward semblance as the women,and in all the churches I entered the men, contrary to our Western practice, were largely iu the majority. And now, bearing in mind always the constant geiiuflxious and crossing, tho noveronding chanting, the savor of in case wafted throuhout the church, let me try and tell, as best I could follow it, how the service was performed on this Sunday morning. First of all, then, the priest, attired in robes of stiff gilt brocade, with the long hair hanging about his shoulders, advanced to the alter,placed over his shoul ders the Epitrachelion, supposed to sym bolize the grace of tlie Holy Ghost, and filled the incense vessel with the sacred herbs, and uttered the following prayer: "To Thee, O Christ, our Lord, we offer tip incense as a spiritual savor; raise it to Thy altar in Heaven, and send down upon us the grace of Thy Hbly Spirit.” Then taking his place before the altar the priest, made the sign and sang forth, “Glory be to God now and forever, from everlasting to everlasting. ” At this stugo the curtains which shroud ed the gates leading to the high alter were thrown back, the priest walked round the shrine, swinging the incense ns he walked, aud the aeoltyte chanted forth, “Come and kneel before God our Lord, come and kneel and fall down before Christ our God and King, come and prostrate yourselves before Christ Himself, onr Sovereign Lord.” Throughout the church there was a rustle as man, woman and child bowed themselves to the ground, and then the choir burst forth with the Nineteenth Psalm, ending with the Doxology. There was a moment’s pause, and then the priest, intoned the Trisagiou, a clmnt, having this name from its being repeated thrice in the same words. It runs thus: “0 Holy Lord, Holy Savior, Holy Everlasting, have mer cy upon us ! Glory to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, now and forever, from everlasting to everlasting. Amen ! All Holy Trinity, have mercy upon us; pu rify us, O Lord, from ouij sins; forgive us, Lord, our transgressions; seek out our short, comings, Holy God, mid heal them, for Thy mercy’s sake. Lord have mercy.” Then again came the Doxology and the Lord’s Prayer, and when the priest had pronounced the blessing the deacon reader sang forth the lesson. Again there were crossings and kneelings amid the crowd, and one.' more the priest lifted up his voice in the following prayer; “Lord, save Thy people and bless thine inheritance. Grant victory to our pious rulers over their op ponents, and protect Thy chosen people with Thy cross. Glory to the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. O Christ,, Thou who placed Thyself upon the cross of Thy own will, our Lord and God, send down L’hy mercy upon this flock of Thine, call ed after Thee; rejoice our pious rulers with Thy might; grant them victory over their enemies, so that they may have Thy aid, the weapons of peace and unassailable glo ry in battle. Now and forever, from ever lasting to everlasting. Amen. O Thou, the Mother of God, only to be addressed with awe and with guileless approach, do not despise our prayer. Strengthen the communion of the faithful, uphold the pi ous rulers whom Thou hast, culled to rule. Grant Thou victory from Heaven, Thou blessed among women, inasmuch as Thou hast begotten (kid. These prayers will probably suffice to show the general character of the service. To repeat them all would require more space than I could ask, and the repititions in the ritual arc almost endless. The cli max in the service, if I may use the word, consists in the throwing open of the gates loading to the Holy of Hollies, when the Holy Scriptures are carried down from the high altar, aud the sacred chalice is hand ed to the priest. But as an ecclesiastical spectacle, the service is wanting in its cul minating point. The congregation fakes as little part therein us in a Catholic church, and yet the priests have not that air of command which in the churches of the Latin faith appears to absorb the at tention of the worshipers. Sermon there is none, aud the whole service reminds you of the, prayers in a Mohammedan mosque without the appearance of rapt devotion on the part of the worshipers, which, to my mind, renders the service of the Moslem the grandest in outward semblance of all the forms in which men meet to worship God. Tlie Grant Parish Trial. From the following remarks of the New Orleans Picayune of Saturday, may be gathered a pretty correct idea of the char acter of the Grant Parish eases now under going trial before the United States Court in that city: The Republican has realized the embar rassment and illustrated the impropriety of commenting on the testimony in a criminal prosecution during its progress. It has published several editorial articles on this case, and assuming the truth of the depositions of the numerous negro witnesses for the prosecution, has gone so far as to presume the guilt of the ac cused, designating them as proven mur derers, and the whole affair as a cruel and brutal butchery. These conclusions would be justified by the premises—but now that the evidence begins to expose a very different state of circumstances; when witnesses, most of then white, and some of them persons who had been en gaged on tho negro side of the controversy and who are well known Radicals, testify so fully and specifically to the preparations and invitations of the negro party, to de cide, a contested election by wagers of battle, and to install as the duly elected Sheriff, a man who in open court declares that he was not elected; when it is shown by their own confederates that they would not listen to any propositions from their leaders for a compromise and peaceful settlement; when their various warlike preparations, their drilling, tfieir mount ing iron pipes loaded with sings aud “blue whistlers,” their division into military bodies, and other like demonstra tions of a fierce and unappeasable thirst for war and bloodshed are established, the case assumes a different character, aud should admonish all outsiders to restrain the expression of their judgment, and the forestalling the verdict of the jury, —— *4 A Coincidence. —The following is rela ted by the Portsmouth (N. H.) Chronicle: “A schooner named in honor of the first man whoever dared openly to advocate, in the United States Senate, universal free dom for all men without regard to color, was an occasional visitant to this port for many years; she was gennerally fortunate, and the John P. Halo was considered a very ‘lucky’ vessel. On the day when the Senatorial pioneer of abolitionism breathed I his last at Dover, and very nearly at the same hour wc are informed that the I schooner John P. Hale went ashore on ‘Norman’s Woe,’ a rock off Cape Ann, Mass., and wobroken into fragments by the sea—the hero Philanthropist and the staunch little vessel bearing his name clo sing their career at the same time.” A LADY IN BREECHES. Philadelphia has a sensation in the re cent discovery and arrest of a beatiful lit tle—girl or rather young lady dressed in male attire. The reporter who received this item for the New York Herald thus describes her: “There was something eo earnest and sincere in the little fellow’s countenance and a grace remarkable in every movement that instinctively 1 paused to take a second look at him. The face was dainty and oval, the eyes full sparkling, the nose Grecian, the lips full and delicately moul ded and the forehead crowned with a wealth of coal-black hair. The following is the reporter’s virsion of the interview; “What is your name?” Tasked “Ber tie Winkler,” she answered, promptly raising her head and fixing her full eyes steadily upon me. Her quaint costume contrasted strangely with her bright, healthy handsome face. The dingy breeches, the tight fitting coat., the rude j shoes and the coarse cheviot si r ill b - enroe one so dainty and so young. Her dark raven hair was cropped short, and parted low upon the side, just like a boy’s. “Where is jour home?” I naked. “In Keysville Charlotte county, Virginia,” she replied. ‘Why did you leave home ? Tell me all about yourself,” I went on. “About your parents, your age, your life and your condition.” Her answer was plain, straightforward and frank, bright, honest and humorous I give it in her exact words. “My parents are German and they are very old; they are also very poor. It was as much as they could do to support themselves. Often I have looked upon my poor mother and pitied her, she was old and her family so large to keep. I am only sixteen. One day I thought I could assist rnv mother by going out in I the world and working for myself. I j told her all my thoughts, and slit: said j that I might go. She kissed me when I I went away and told me never to forget | that I was a lady and that, she was my ! mother. I went to Richmond, the con | doctor of the cars allowing me to ride j | free. I there first put upon me the clothes j of a boy.” BREECHED FOll PROTECTION. “Why” I asked. “Well,” she answered, modestlj', “I did 1 not want to be insulted, and I thought j a boy’s ‘outfit would protect me better | than a girl’s. I just laughed when I put j tho clothes on, though,” she continued, smiling, “because everywhere I placed my hands there seemed to be a pocket. I went to the captain of a steamer bound for Philadelphia, and, telling him liow i poor I was and how much 1 wanted to help my mother, I asked him if he would i not let me pay my way to the North by ; i working upon his vessel. The Captain | J was very kind, and told me I was too j [ young to do work and that he would let i (me ride just like a passenger. The Cop-; ! tain never dreamed that I was a little I girl. He never once suspected it. I j never told him; he does not know it yet. | All were generous and good to me on j the steamer; no one ever spoke an unkind i i word. I arrived here about January. I | was idle for some weeks and found it so j hard to live. By and by I went into the j | shooting gallery and he gave me a place. J ! I have been there until to-day. No one j j ever suspected my being a girl; no one I , insulted me, The proprietor himself did | not know my sex until this morning when | the officer came, I learned to shoot first j rate. I hit the centre of the target ten | times once one right after the other. One j day a great big man came in the gallery and he Was drunk. He shot many times j aud then would not pay. I made him pay, i : and then he began to swear. I just put j all my strength against him and pushed j ; him right out. All the men laughed and ; I felt afraid of what I had done. I had a ; nice boarding place. I roomed all alone by myself; you can ask the Women who ; owns the house if I did not. My mother j knows where I am, only she is a German j | and when she hears that I have been ar- j rested she will think that they have taken ! Ime to jail. I have never done anything | j wrong, I was known at the gallery as | I Louis Winkler.” VIRTUOUS AND FEARLESS. “But,” your correspondent interrupted, j “were you not in constant dread of being; insulted ?” “No,” she answered. “Why should I ! have been. I was doing my duty, aud was not ashamed to work. If a person j does right she will never suffer. My boy’s ! clothes kept me from insult, and no one found me out. I have ulwnj's sent my mother money—-just as much as I could | spare. Ask the chief of Police if he will i not let me write a letter to my mother now. | I want to so much. She will be worried i I about her little girl.” Such was the story Bertie told me. The police cross-question her, and found in her j statements no discrepances or coutmdie j tious. Her identity was discovered by a j j party residing near her home, who in- < ; formed the police, and brought about her arrest, A lady came to see the little waif and 1 interviewed her alone. When she came outshe pronounced Bertie a thorough and perfect little lady, whose truth, sincerity | and virtue could not be doubted. In a half hour Bertie became a great favorite. Everbody wanted to talk with her. No one. could help laughing at the little Crea : tun; sitting there so gracefully, dressed in those rude and ridiculous habiliments. She seemed so ’cute, so bright, so full of innocent coquetry and mirth. She spoke in English and in German with equal flu ency, and after an interview held with her by Mr. Smith, of the Herman Democrat, he informed me that she was exccedly well educated aiul as well versed in Geiman lit erature as could be possibly expected in ! one so young ns her; ei,. The police are i doing all in their power to render her comfortable, and have communicated with her parents, telling them that no harm has befallen or will befall her. She will go through the world all right. There is too much purity in her to be sul lied. 4*4 The Lynchburg (Va.) Republican learns that the Rev. Dr. W. E. Munsey has been appointed by Bishop Pierce, of Georgia, to fill a vacancy in the pulpit of the leading Methodist Episcopal Church South in Augusta, Ga., at a salary of #4,000. It is understood that the Doc tor’s health has greatly improved of late, and that lie will accept the position ten dered him. At least one-half of the horses in New York city are said to be suffering from the new epizootic. MISCELLANEOUS ITEMS. Ruled paper—Tho Freuoh press. Jones calls his boarding lums a hacienda. It is impossible to have tho last word with a chemist, because he always hs a retort. In pocket-picking, as in everything else, man never succeeds until he gets his hand iu. A rough but plain speaker Hays: “Pro hibition does not exist in Massachusetts —dot by a jug-fuU.” There are over fonateen and a half million of children of the school uge iu t is country. It is said of a saloon-keeper recently conquered by the Ohio temperance peo ple that he never “smiled” again. A New Bedford paper with a misprinted veracity announces that that, city now has an “uninformed police.” A Milwaukee dry goods clerk wears a shingle under his shirt front to keep the wrinkles in subjection. Female Exquisite—“ Quite a nice ball at Mrs. Millet) eur’s, wasn’t it ?” Male ditto—“lndeed, really most, quite.” A little girl of eight or ten summers being asked what dust was, replied that it was mud with the juice squeezed out. A preacher recently took for his text, “How old art thou ?” and a crowd of Indies of uncertain age left the church in high dudgeon. A Detroit woman gives all the bottles and worn-out hoop-skirts about the house to the poor, and wonders how big her bank-account is above ! Nature provides no reserved seats for the rich and daintily reared. When there is iee on the pavement, they sit where they can. Charles Kingsley saj-s he hopes that so me American will lie buried in West minister Abbey, and the Boston Rost bogs him to take Butler right away. An Aberdeen philosopher has extracted the following reply from an advanced free school lad to the query “How is the earht divided ?” “By eorthquukes, sir.” It wan a Canadian road, anil the hrake nntn had called out in sonorous voice, “Tecswater !” when an argumentative pa*- senger got up and exclaimed, “It’s a lie ! ’ The latest trick of the frequent hoy is to chalk an envelope on tho door sill in the evening, and then ring the bell. It is im possible to pick up the letter. “Whydon’t you give us a little Greek and Latin occasionally?” asked a country deacon of anew minister. "Why. do you understand those languages ?” “No; but we pay for the best, and ought to have it.” It is said that the Colorado Legislature has two Mexican members who can neither speak nor understand the English lan guage. Most any Legislature can beat that as to the matter of speaking the En glish language. The Legislature of Rhode Island has submitted the question of female snffrago to a vote of the people, and the constitu tional convention of Ohio is discussing a proposition to dispose of the subject in the same way. “Do you go to Sabbath school, my lad ?” kindlj’ asked a city missionary of a de praved little Dilbtiqtie urchin. “Nary,” answered tho innocent child; “but I've got a figlitin cock that can walk over any bird in this town that wears gafl’s.” A Danbury boy reporting small pox in school was kept at home one day, but bis father, inquiring into fho facts, sent liiiq to school next day. Ho anxiously inquir ed of a fellow pupil from the Sixth Ward where he could get the small pox ; be wan ted to “bother father and die, to let him know that he meant things.” California seems to have passed a most ingenious liquor law. Among other fea tures, it makes it a misdemeanor for one gentleman to ask another gentleman to take a drink. It used to be common enough in Kentucky for one gentleman to knock over another gentleman for re fusing to drink with him. But California is very much ahead of Kentucky. American Honor. Whatever little respect for the American flag may have survived the Virginias affair has been destroyed by a disgraceful act of selfish cowardice on the part of the captain of one of the regular steamers plying between this oity afid Havana. Three Cubans, foolishly trusting to the hospitality and honor of Americans, stowed themselves away on the City of New York steamship, and, having been dis covered at sea, the captain put hack and delivered the men over to the Spanish ai * thorities, well knowing that their doom was sealed. The passengers were naturally indignant, hut tho captain had mere dread of offending the Spanish authorities than of committing a flagrant breach of hospi ta'ity. Cubans ought to learn that they can only trust themselves, and that no faith whatever is to be placed in the pru t> et.ion of a nation whose flag is little bet ter than a national trademark.— N. Y. Herald. Yawcob Dundercoop Explains. I vns not feel pooty veil dis mornings, or I vas dell you off dis pisness sooner off not pefore some under (limes. I peen drabbled mit a bull, unt 1 don’t got over it not rite away quick. Mine vow, Franlied Dunderfcbbp, vas a booty goot voomans, put if she vas vant, anything, it vas petter if you gone nut done it, or ranype dot vill make drubble mit her house. She spoke mit me, untdellme dot I gone out mit dor roods unt get some roots vat she rants. I gone out y. ost so quick vat I can, but dot vas not very quick, peoanse 1 vas fat ash putter. Here vas a pig meadow vat I hev got to cross, ash I gone to der voods, uud veu 1 git in ter middle dere vas a bull, so. pig ash a house, vieli come down mit iiis Jail up, unt a pellow vat make me dink dot it vas petter off I stay mit der house unt mind myself. I tou’t run pooty much, bnt some days I run petter ash I run udder days, unt dis vas der day veu I could run. So I gone uvuy, unt ter bull he gone after me so mad ash ter tyful. I liefer vas so mnch scare in swanzey year tush I vas den. Veil, I falls town, unt 1 runs, tint I falls again, unt a pig bull-tog conies unt drives avay der bull, unt den be limits me up a dree, unt keeps me all tay. Ven he gone avay I come town, unt dink I vill go home ; but I stop at Hans Fhil lings unt dukes a glass lager, and ven I gone home you vood dink Fraiuiett Dnu derooop vas gone grazv mad, unt nothing vat 1 says could stop her. I been lame every since dot time, but 1 dinks der prriomstick hurt me jmost so m'v 1 ' as dvr bull. Vat vas voudiuli your self ? NO. 47.