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jp^^v'r ' ' ' v ' j _ __ v THOSE DEAD TREASURES. be . Tea, I have nursed them in my heart thro' evil and thro' good ! jffi Those earnest thoaghts and feelings deep and hopes half understood; I'Vv E'en as tho treasured honey food is guarded by the bee, 801 have kept my precious store to waste it all on thee. v like roses strewn upon a grave?tho cold, unconscious dead Snows not and cures not that they cast their fragrance o'er his bed. giV I would not chido, I would not blame, nor fruitlessly repine u,, ' That I have found thy heart to be a heart un worthy mine. A sculptured form so like to life it seemed to breathe and smile, And I believed It felt and loved?'twas marble all the while 1 Yet keep the gift thou vainest not?keep it and still be free? The treasured wealth of many years were useless now to mo ! Tw&a given?I would not call it back, nor idly monrn my loss, But what Ood bath sent tako instead and liombly kiss the cross. Mrs. Whitcheb. THE EIGHT FORTY-FIVE. El* " ___ A BRIGHTON IDYL, Every body outside the office of Jonathan Gfeysark & Co., East India merchants, of Hood Lane City, knew Mr. Jonathan Greysark simply as a very wellto-do bachelor, of five-and-forty?freshfaced, well-dressed, genial, and affable as a man tolerably well fitted out with the good things of this life and unliam pered by ties and encumbrances should De. But Mr. Philip Penn, whose days were passed within the office, regarded his wealthy and popular employer from a somewhat different point of view. Mr. Penn had by his steadiness and [ _ linainnac lrnnwIorlMn i miv u iu uu ciuau , helped Jonathan Greysark to his enviable position in the commercial world; lie had served the house faithfully for upward of twenty years yet he was still simply a clerk, in which position, dest." pite frequent prayers and petitions, Mr. CJreysark was apparently determined to keep him until the time came for dispensing entirely with his services. Altogether, poor Penn's life was by no means a happy one, for in addition to his cominercial troubles, he had an eternally grinning domestic skeleton, in the shape of a blackguard brother, who had stood ? in the felon's dock on a charge of extensive forgery, had passed many years in ' . prison, and who now could only be kept quietly in the background by the allowance which the unfortunate Penn made him out of tlieexceedingly moderate salary he drew from the Rood Lane office, Greysark knew this, and was also aware that a tarnished name was an almost insuperable bar to his clerk's advance in any other line of life; so he meanly took advantage of the fact by getting-a most unfair amount of work out of Penn, and paying him a miserably inadequate salary for it. Jonathan Greysark lived at Brighton, ? and came up to town every morning on the 8:45 express. In this famous train he had acquired from long usage prescriptive right to a particular seat in a particular compartment of a particular carriage, and the guard suffered aconsider?ki/> u!. 1?i? ? ? I uuiu ituuuuvu hi ins we^K-iy largesse ll he allowed a stranger to usurp this place. But, the old guard having been shunted elsewhere, and a strange official who knew not Jonathan, having been substituted, it so happened that one morning Greysark, his rug on his arm and his paper in his hand, swaggered gravely and magisterially up to the carriage, only to lind his particular compartment ?and, in fact, his very seat?occupied. Under ordinary circumstances he would have resented this unwarrantable intrusion, in an unmistakable manner, but upon this occasion, as the occupant -was i a pretty, modestly dressed girl of eigh- | teen or thereabouts, he could only vent his feelings in grunts and scowls, and I betake himself to another seat. But i when, the next morning, he found his place similarly occupied, his position became somewhat embarrassing, and only the girl's pleasant face checked audible expression of his discontent. The same thing occured the morning after, and the morning after that, and the young 8:45 bucks, who, of course, regarded the affair as a capital joke, remarked that the great man, instead of ramping and raging away to another carriage, not only contentedly went into the same one, Eut passed a much greater part of the our and a quarter's iourney in looking at the girl over the top of his newspaper than in studying the city article. In a fortnight's time it was observed that he handed her out, carried her little parcels, and saw her safely into an omnibus for the Mansion House; and in three weeks > time it was noted that he chatted as j easily and familiarly with her as if he had known her for years. In short, it became very evident that the wealthy bachelor of Rood Lane was V enamored of the young lady. When his attentions first became marked she assumed the proper attitude of unpro xcctea virtue una confined her answers to rather curt monosyllables, but when her feminine perspicuity assured her that her admirer's behavior was inspired by the most honorable of intentions, shcunbent and told him that her name was ; : Phyllis, that she was a student at the . South Kensington School of Art, and that she resided at Brighton with her i&f/ aunt. "Miss Phyllis," said Greysark one v\ morning, as they walked along the London Bridge platform, "as some sort of assurance that I only entertain the '1 most genuine feelings of respect and? and .'admiration for you, I think I should mention that my name is Greysark, that I am the head of one of the most respecter-' ed houses in the city of London, and Ik that, as I am quite aware that an acquaintance of this casual nature is apt to ?: givo rise to erroneous impression in the minds of people who only judge by j appearance, with your permission, nothiug will give me greater pleasure than jgk to call upon your aunt at Brighton." 2S?. - At the mention of the name Greysark, the girl's color deepened somewhat, and she raised her eyes to his face for a lew k- seconds. Then she said: - iv k v- , " "I am euro that my aunt would Ix delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr. Greysark." Accordingly, on the following Sunday, Mr. Greysark, instead of performing hit usual weekly duty to society by an aftei? no n lounge on the Green, betook himself to Regency Square, and was ushered into the presence of a smiling greyhaired ladjT, who might have stepped tiuui uu um-touoi pii;iuic 11UII1U, UUU who received him with the stately urbanity of a courtier of the old school. Being a man of business, Jonathan Grcysark lost no time in beating about the bush, but plunged at once in. median res described the origin of his acquaintance with Phyllis, expressed himself in such happy4 language, blew his own trumpet in such a pleasant, unassuming manner, declared his devotion in such fervid phrases, in fact, put matters before the old lady in such an attractive light, that she was completely won over. "Of course, Mr. Grcysark," she said in reply, "as I am only the girl's aunt, I have no direct authority in the matter. But if Phyllis regards your suit as favorably as I do, I can only recommend that you should address a letter to her father in London, state the case as you have stated it to me, and abide by his decision." "But it is an extraordinary phase of our acquaintance,*' said the merchant, "that I do not know your neicc's surname yet." Perhaps the old lady was struck by the strangeness of this avowal, but at any rate she hesitated a moment, seemed a little confused, and then replied: "Her name is Fleming, Mr. Grcysark; a letter addressed to Mr. Robert Fleming and given to me will insure its safe despatch." "But would it not be better for me to call upon Mr. Fleming myself" said Grcysark. My business experience has taught me that one personal interview is worth a dozen letters." "So it is, as a general rule, Mr. Grcysark," replied the old lady. But Mr. Fleming's movements are so uncurtain, his business takinfr him so frnmmntlv away from home, that the course I have suggested would, I think, be the better." And after a little general conversation, Mr. Greysark took his leave, resolved that he would without delay formally propose to Phyllis, and if her answer should be favorable, as he had not the slightest reason to doubt it would be, indite his letter to Mr. Fleming. Accordingly the next morning, upon arrival at London Bridge, instead of handing Phyllis into a Mansion House omnibus, as usual, he insisted that she should walk there with him. And by the time King William's statue was reached he had poured out his soul to her, and received her ready assent to his proposal, conditional upon the approval of her father. One or two little circumstances connected with his visit to Regency Square on the previous day struck Jonathan Greysark as being curious as he sat in his room at the office playing listlessly with the heap of unopened letters before him. Of course he had observed the old lady's hesitation in'giving the name of Fleming; and her suggestion that the letter should be forwarded through incf/io rl r\ f f a o /I irnnf i?/Irl*?ft30 ^ rather unusual. Perhaps Fleming was a strange sort of man?under a cloud, or of eccentric habits. At any rate Phyllis was a lady, as was her aunt; the surroundings of the rooms in Regency Square showed refinement, if not opulence; and although money with a wife was no object with him, he preferred that the lady honored by his choice should not be an utter stranger to the style of life to which as Mrs. Greysark she would be introduced. But his ardent affection for the simple-minded, bricht-faced girl overcame whatever little shades of doubt or scruple the above strange circumstances might have awakened within him, and, after hurriedly perusing his business letters, he called Mr. Penn in, gave him instructions to show nobody into the private room for an hour, and settled himself down to indite the epistle to Mr. Fleming. After much destruction of best cream-laid note, he produced the following; Deaii Sib: It id with no little diffidence tbat I adcirt ss one who in a complete stranger to mo npon a subjeci of such importance as that which now occupies my pt-n ; hut I am sure I judge you rightly when I think that you will pardon the liberty I am taking by the time you arrive at the end of the letter. In short. I wish to obtain your consent to my marriage with your charming daughter, Phyllis. Ah thin is to some extent a matter of buBinesp, I may inform you that I made tho young lady's acquaintance in tho Brighton train, by which we have been fellow-passengers daily for some weeks past ; that I then obtained not only her consent to my proposal, but the entire approbation of her aunt, upon whom I had tho pleasure of calling, with your daughter's permission. For your satisfaction I may add tbat, although I am not a very young man, I am in the full vigor of health and strength ; that I am the sole and responsible head of oue of the b;st known and mont respected business licuses in the city of Loudon, and that I am in a position, which you ibay verify, if you please. l>y the most minute investigation, to maintain your daughter in a fitting position as a ludy. The entire happiness of my life, and I dare add that of your daughters, rests upon yonr decision as to whether she should be ray w fe or not, and I :mplore you not to bo inllpenced in y<>ur opinion by t <e somewhat peculiar oircumstanceB under which our meeting took place, and our consequent acquaintance and i intimacy were formed. If you will kindly take a week to oonsider this, tc me, vital questi on, I shall be itiexpresibly obliged ; and, thanking yon heartily in advance for the sanotion which I feel certain you will acoord, I am. my dear sir, Your very obedient servant, Jonathan Greysark. Having read this two or three times over to assure himself that ho had not said too much or too little. .Jonathan Greysark placed it in an envelope addressed to Robert Fleming, Esq., and that again in an envelope which he purposed to hand to the old lady at Brigh nn The week seemed interminable to the enamored Jonathan. Men remarked that he appeared absent>minded and preoccupied, but two or three of his fel low-passengers by the 8:45, who were ii the same market, told the story of hii capture by the nretty girl in the train, and so accounted for his peculiarity. 1I< himself, however, was in a state o! anxiety to which he had long been t stranger. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thurs day passed, and no answer from the mys terious >lr. Fleming arrived. Perhapi the old lady had forgotten to forwarc his missive. Old ladies, so strangely > | mindful of long-post occurrences, v olten oblivious about matters pre* Perhaps?but he shuddered at thought and cast it from him?for I ? . lis was too good, too honest, too muc i a lady, to be so base aud cruel; or other hand, possibly Mr. Fleming 1 instituting inquires. It was natural an affectionate father should do s , [ every time Penn brought in a visi i name the merchant expected to "Mr. Robert Fleming" announced. Friday afternoon he called in Mr. P ''Kindly shut the door," he said t have something of importance to sj to you about." t Mr. Penn obeyed, and anxiously spected his employer's face. * "Mr. Penn," began the merch with a preliminary clearing of the tin "you have been in my service now I some years, and you have givet ; pretty general satisfaction in performance of your duties." Penn's face brightened. Certain rise in salary was coming, perhaps f thing more substantial. But all dashed to the ground with the first v ot the great man's next sentence. "But," continued Greysark, I 1 been thinking the matter over verj . riously lately, and I have arrived at painful conclusion that I must dispi with your services at the expiration month from this date." The poor clerk gasped and clutc the table for support, and would 1 spoken but for a magisterial wave of Grcvsark's hand. "It is very evident to me," con tin bis employer, "that some fresh bloc needed in this business. In fact, I pose to take a partner, and by so ad do away with the necessity oi payii handsome salary to a head clerk." "Mr. Greysark !" almost shrieked i Penn. "Do hear me. I have helped to make this business. I have beer this oliice for more than twenty ve You have never once had cause to fault with me, and I may conscicntio say that I have never given you occa; to. For more than one reason I am eluded from the possibility of geti another situation. My name, as know, is against me, and people wt objcct to me on the ground that I h: brother who had been in the police dc moreover, I am not fitted to occup clerk's desk in any other busin Think, sir, I implore you to thi With one word you are turning an I est man into the streets to beg, for fault of his own. I do not wish to p myself forward unduly, Mr. Greysi but at such a crisis as is this I am foi to remind you that but for me might possibly not have found busii matters work so smoothly as th?y hi If you discharge me with the notioi introducing new blood in to the hoi you will have to " "Mr. Penn,"interupted the merchi with a wave of the hand, "we mus this world be men of business first humanitarians afterward. I have gi your case my fullest consideration, in acknowledgment of your service? well as by way of compensation, I ] ; pose to make you a weekly allown until you get employment. But 1 : you must go I have made up my mi | You will please make no further ob | vations on the decision at which I 1 i arrived, or I shall be obliged to reqi you to leave my presence. I think it fair to tell you, however, that the p cipal reuson for my deciding to tal partner is that I am going to be mar ?that is when the consent of the yo lady's father has been obtained." "Well, sir," said the clerk, "of periods in life, surely the eve of i riage should most naturally inspire k I notions. You are about to make your | as happy as human being can poss be, yet you wish to inaugurate that riotl by reducing to want and ruin an and tried servant. I know you too v sir?or. rather, I think too well of yc not to be sure that if you carry out latter intention your conscience n prick you in after life." "Mr. Penn," said Greysark sever "I told you not to bandy words with so let me hear no more. I am now g< to Brighton. Do not omit to forwarc: letters to my address there. You please be particular in this. I must Mr. Penn, that I am not a little as ished that, remembering, as you m what I have done for you, and how a your tarnished name you might long this have been betrging your bread for ine, you should presume to offei adviee on my own affair. But I will no more." The clerk lingered on in the room if in hopes that some straw might be to clutch at. Then he said: "Mr. G eark, you observed just now that fact of your marriage depends upon consent of the young lady's father.' "Those were my words, Mr. Pei replied the merchant. "If he should refuse his conse said Penn. "Refuse, Mr. Penn! Refuse!" excli ed Grcysark. "Such a thing is sin impossible, simply too ridiculous to entertained for a moment. The hea the house of Jonathan Grcysark & C< should imagine, was a fit match for one." "So you may think, sir," said I quietly; "but fathers sometimes ] strange opinions." "Mr. Penn, you are insolent, sir!' most roared the merchant, rising in chair, and glaring at his clerk with i ous eyes. Penn fumbled in his pockets, and tinued, still quietly, "Well, sir, in case the father's opinion does happc differ from yours, and he refuses i BOnpfir\T\ fA liio rlonrrlifnr'c mnrriorvo , WW .... * Jonathan Grcysnrk started fron chair, his face perfectly livid, his eyes . mouth wide opened. Penn drew f I a letter from his pocket, unfolded and as if utterly unconscious of storm he had raised, resumed: "You havo addressed this lette ? Mr. Robert Fleming, the father of F i lis, the young lady to whom you ] L been paying your addresses. I, . family reasons, with which you arec] i familiar, prefer to be known in my c * of acquaintance as Robert Fleming. F , lis ismy daughter, and" I re ' j "No! no! don't go?on!" shouted G f sark in a voice of supplication, i *?*?* - In the courto of a few weeks Pb - Penn became Mrs. Jonathan Greys ? and the style of the firm in Rood I I was altered to Greysark, Penn & C f London Truth* {A ' ? rere, 1 A STORY OF THE SOUTH. leht. , ^ t A I-lttlo Yarn Full (o the Brim of Ko. hyl- | nmnce. ;h of ( About two years before the war, near l tlie a j)retty and substantial residence in was t|1(J vic|nity 0f rt prosperous little town, that a beautiful young girl, about fourteen, ana , W}|S siCC|,jng |n H hammock swung from |or 3 j two stately oaks in a grove. She was ()F i a 1>rctty P>c^ure innocence and grace, i and won the admiration of the passers. en"' i In a meadow to the rear, a fat, mcck\ J ' eyed cow reclined in the shade, ruini)eak nating the food she had gathered in the morning. IJut what has the cow got to ln" do with the sleeping girl, is propounded ; well, wait and see. Across the road ant, from the house, the girl and cow is a ?i. ' meadow, with a branch running through it, and coming up the branch is a boy 1 *ne with a gun. When ?vithin 100 yards of the girl, and about ir>0 from the cow, a -u: i i? " ? * uiru new up ana sailed in the air toy a ward the cow. The boy tired at the >me- -which flew on unhurt, but the wa? cow received a pretty strong dose of '? shot. She immediately arose in fright, dashed through the grove, caught the inve girl and hammock on her horns, and ' /j*5" rushed with her shrieking victim about the lot. The terrified girl bccame unsc silent, imd the crowd of relatives and ? a friends in pursuit thought thai she was , , dead. The wild fury of the cow as she ( rushed around soon tore the netting iavo loose, and the girl dropped unconscious I ' to the ground. She was picked up aud , taken into the house, and on cxamiuallJc. j tion, only a few minor bruises were II ' found. The boy. thinking he was the tin"' I 'nnocen^ cause of the killing of the " young girl, disappeared. All trace of a him vanished. It was thought that lie ^ or had perished by his own hand; but ou i about six years after the war a travelstained stranger was in the town inquir| ing lor persons, most of whom had been swept away by the war. After a long , T search the stranger found ail old man 0~ on a load of wood and in conversation t with him learned where one of the parJ. ~ ties he was in search of lived, a lew ^ miles out of town. He went there, made himself known, and turned out to i(l be the boy of the gun. The people he )cj_. found were his father and his mother, ^ who had mourned him as dead for ess eight years. The boy had been in South . . " America, got rich, and yearning for the lon^ love of the old folks, returned to the. dcsplatcd home of his childhood, and tush mftde loved ones comfortable. For irk xne nrsc l,me tlieni hearing that the girl red waa un*njuru(l> he called on her, and _ou finding her pretty, good and a first-class iiess h?me woman, he put in with a will, got lve her heart as his own, and the old folks' n consent, and has been for the last twelve llsc or fourteen years one of the leading ' men of his section. This is fact.? [inf Americus (On.) liccorilcr. t in ? and A Judge Who Was'a River Driver. ven and The Lewiston, Me., Journal says: i, as . Judge Virgin, one of the ablest jurists !>ro- of the Maine Supreme Court, was born mce aDd bred among the Oxford bears, llis that father was a lumberman, and when a ind. young man the Judge used to go into ser- the woods and chop with tho best of lave them or run the logs down stream with nest the most daring river drivers. The but Judge recently told ine some of his adTin ventures as a log runner. "There was ve a a stream they used to call No. 0, runried ning into the Swift Hiver on which my ung father used to operate," said he. "At noon, when the snow had melted and all run down into it, it would be bank full, nar- but by night there would be hardly any ;ind water in it. "We floated those big self pumpkin pines down this stream at ihly midday. They were monstrous logs. I pe- thought nothing of jumping on one of old them and riding down on it alone, 'ell, Once in a while I'd strike a hidden rock and go off, L>nt I ratlier cnjofyed a this ducking then." What future Justice mist of the Supreme Court is yarding logs j in the Maine forest this winter? "The j ely. most eccentric farmer I ever knew," me. snid Judge Virgin, "was Phin Wood, of Rumford. He had a very large I farm without a fence on it. He always kept a lot of cattle and about fifty hogs SHy? running loose. Instead of stone walls ton" he had about ten dogs to keep his stock ust, from straying. At one time Phin was vith a verv profane man, but he became con' ere verted and tried his best to be better, but jjis temper would get the advantage of ' me him once in a while, though, and he 8Ry would express his repentance for his wickedness in prayer meeting aftcr? ^ ward. I've heard hrm tell in prayer meeting how he'd found himself swearre7 ing at his oxen and then fallen right down by their sides and prayed for for? ? giveness. I never shall forget one testi? mony I heard him gi'e in a Rumford in> prayer meeting. He had lost his wife and he expressed his sorrow over his * bereavement. Said he: 'She was a good wife, a helpmeet to me. She lim- helped me pay for stock and save *ply money. Brethren and sisters, I'd rather ' lost any pair of oxen in my yard than d of lost her.' " I any Senator Sherman's Adopted Danghter. >enrj A newspaper correspondent says: I understand that the adopted daughter nf Sanilfnr Qhnrmon lion o , . VT*. UV/UIII.V4 UUV1U1UII <IUO UV/V/V/I11V (k ^ I (-Ut *. comfort to him, both from her affection . and her accomplishments. His wife un" heard her husband express the desire to have some children to bring up, and she understood that in New York were 18 two fine children, the daughters of a n, . French couple who came to this couni, 18 try, and here the husband lost his wile. . . He was so disconsolate that he refused 1 8 to stay in the land which he accused of aiJ? having caused the death of his partner. .. So he gave his children to an institu! ' tion, and hearing about them Mrs. Sherman came over to New York and it , is said that she personally, without as| sistan e, carried those two infants to ^ Washington in the night. One of them ave died before it was two years old. The .?* other was sent abroad to be educated, I ^ anr) mVtito OAma mam/\m * . auu W*A*a%* duv/iv nviuu iUlUI unug puiouu ).rc .e told the girl that she was not the child ^ of the Senator and his wife. It made . her so unhappy that she wis unable to y* stay in Franco and insisted upon cora^ ing home. The incident, however, secured yet more of the affection of her y?? adopters and they are realizing as much jar*, j0y in the object of their care as if she were their own. !?? - He that shows a putaJon tells his enemy I whore he may hit him. General Grant Badly Beaten. A Galena letter to the Chicago Inter- 1 Ocean, says: I heard an amusing story a day or two ago about the Grant boys, when they were children at Galena. The family lived in a plain, two-story brick house, on High street, which since the ]i General first begun to achieve greatness | s has been an object of interest to tourists li and strangers visiting the city. Their | t nearest and most intimate neighbors ! I were the family of A. M. Haines. The 1 t Ilaines' and the Grant cliildrcn were fast | A friendsdnrin?r the rcsidenei* of tli?? ? at High street. The hoys of each family 1 n had a game rooster, and were wont to | n pit the fowls against each other whenever a favorable opportunity presented \ itself. The Grant rooster was named h "General Grant," and was a very gamey I' bird, usually coming out first best in the s contests. The Ilainsfowl was christened "JcfT Davis." not, however, from any I love the young owners entertained for 1j its traitorous namesake. On one occasion the two birds were o set to fiirhting, and in the battle the e Haines fowl whipped "General Grant" y badly, and drove him from the field. i: The contest between these two chiefs of s the roost took place at a time when Grant and Pemberton were pitted d against each other at Vicksburg, and c when it began to look as though the 1". former would have to give up the idea J of capturing the city. News was brought to Mrs. Grant almost hourly from the si scat of witr, and that lady, as a matterof I course, was very anxious about the result, c although she knew that sooner or later h "Ulyss" would get there. A messenger h had just left the house, after handing c Mrs. Grant a somewhat discouraging dispatch, when in rushed her boys, Fred tl and Buck, shouting indignantly, tl "Mother, 'General Grant'has been lick- 1 ed ! "General Grant" has been licked!" 'I "I ffuess not, my children," said the r< mother coolly, who at first gravely ii inia?jinc(i Hint some inter intelligence than she had received had come from n the front. "Yes, he has," said Fred u indignantly; 44 'JefT Davis' licked him J just now. behind Mr. Haines's barn, and a if that bird don't go into the pot it will o be becausc T can't catch- it to wring its e neck." "General Grant," it is rented, si suffered nn ignominious death that night, ti and next day furnished a meal for the li | family. T mm S( Cupt. Clarke's Career. k \\ The San Francisco Jjul'ctin says: Capt. Clarke, of the American ship Frank N. Thayer, the mutiny of whoso n crew oil Cape of Good Hope was an- 4i nounced by telegraph last Saturday, wa? n ! the central figure in one of the most L prominent criminal triuls in the history of this city. He brought the American tl ship Sunrise into this ])ort in the sum- c: mer of 187:1, and shortly afterward was n: charged by his crew with various acts of cruelty. He and his two mates, Harris n ; and Maloney, were tried by juries.be- V j fore Judges Sawyer and Hoffman, the tl ; trials being lengthy and attracting wide ? attention. Clarke and his counsel inI sisted that the charges had been magni- ai i lied by the press. On Oct. 28 Clarke si | was convicted on seven of the fourteen st j counts in the indictment against him. A j month later the first mate was convicted tl on '24 counts for cruelty. The other., h mate pleaded guilty. The captain was sentenced by Judge Sawyer to fourteen months' imprisonment in the county jail li; and to pay a fine of $1,000. Mate liar- tl ris was sent to the State prison for four h years, and Maloney to the county jail for two months. The latter died after g three weeks' confinement. Capt. Clarke's fine was paid and he was soon released F from jail tinder a pardon from President Grant. Meanwhile his aged father had fii come out fro:u Boston and taken com- st mand of the ship, and sailed out of u port. Capt. Clarke's wife had sailed in with him on his voyage on the Sunrise, c( and testified on the triil, her evidence being of a negative ch-racter. While tl these proceedings were pending great di indignation was caused by the act of d the United States Marshal in conducting the witnesses from the county jail to court room in irons. These' were the crew who had been taken into custody j to insure their testifying. The act of handetilliuK them was denounced by bi ( Jen. Barnes, William IJayes, Tully R. tl Wise, John M. Burnett, George F. i f< Sharp, S. M. Wilson, "Robert O. Rogers, Ji Gov. Haight, Charles Ben. Darwin, E. bi D. Sawyer, and Judges Lake and jt Dwinelle. n ? a] Gen. WInfleld Scott Hancock. ^ A gentleman who knew the late Gen. Jj Hancock intimately, thus described his personal appearance:?"Hancock is tall, j.' well formed and handsome. His height ^ cannot be less than six feet.two inches, and he weighs fully two hundred and . forty pounds. His form towers above other men, and he attracts attention by j his mere looks wherever he goes. His ^ eyes are blue and have a benignant and mild expression when in repose, but in- ^ spiring when in danger. His manner ;<> /i;?r.,;fin/i -l i -- i ai *o v?i^uuivu CI11U aill^UtlJ II1114 lie IB rp courtesy itself. He is always magnetic, and draws men to him by his kindliness ri and gentle interest in their affairs. His j* sympathies are easily aroused, and he n( becomes intensely concerned for the ^ sorrows and misfortunes of others, striv- ' ing in every way to relieve them, as ^ though their troubles were his own. Hancock's kindness to his subordinates j' always won not only their love, but also g( their confidence, and caused them to rely on him as a friend as well as commander. He gave a man a good opinion of himself, and made each one feel he was of more importance than he ever before suspected. * It was this which I caused him to have such power over his I officers and men in battle, and made 1>' them prefer rather to die than to forfeit 1 J1 the good opinion of their leader." ni General Hancock had two children, A Russell Hancock and Ada Elizabeth ^ Hancock. The latter died iu New P' York, of typhoid fever, when eighteen P years of age. She was a young lady of 1 great promise. Russell Hancock, the ! o( General's only son, who was a planter j 8j in Clarksville, Miss., died suddenly at " the age of thirty three, in December, ai 1884. ? ? T A resident of San Diego, Ca!., has *! written a pamphlet to prove that the | *( earth is in imminent danger of a second ' deluge in 18021 | at ' i", t; "r THE LAST RALLY. 'hp nouth In tlie Ifosjtiml.?A Graphic IMcturo. iiir. ...:n ? ? ... iic wiii pass away ueiore morning." So said the doctor to the nurse us he iitssed out of the room and down tlio tairs, perhaps having u hit of sadness in lis heart?perhaps dismissing the matter roin his mind as if the death of n human ieing was of no cons-?ipience to him or he world at large. Perhaps it was not. Vhy should one be startled when an old oldier?a man of toilsome marches and i::ny battles is about to pass away.' lie lust die, like the rest of us. The nurse was an old comrade. V'hiie the dying man beat the rally on is drum as Casey was hurled back ut 'air Oaks, the nurse swung his hat and houted to the men hurring to the rear: "Comeback, comrades?come back! .et us form a line here and beat them aek!"' \Ylien the drummer beat the advance n the right at Antietam, and Joellookr's front pushed boldly in to meet itouewall .luekson's men, the nurse was i the foremost rank, his teeth hard hut and his eyes blazing fire. ' R-r-r-r-a-t?tat! tat!" sounded the rum in the streets of quaint old Fredricksburg, and the nurse was there to ace the terrible Stonewall and to be riven back by tlie murderous tire. "Tat! tat! Tat! tat! U-r-r?tnt! tat!" winded the drum at (iettysburg, as 'ickett's Virginians massed on I Iannek's front; and the nurse was there to elp stem that mad torrent of war and url the shattered legions back to the over of ridge and wood. Shell and shot and bullet had passed licm by, but now there was to be a batle with a grim and a silent enemy, lis forces were hidden in the darkness, 'here was no rattle of small arms?no oar of artillerv?no IY??m ilnnc t ifantry orchccrs from charging cavelry. The drummer awoke from his stupor nd gazed around hiin. Something iiad arned him that n battle was imminent. Ic looked into the eyes of his comrade nd there was the same fire he had seen n a dozen battlefields. He felt the old xcitement in his soul?the wild cnthu wom binu vuiucH iruin waving llftgsj ramping columns and crash of arms, le made n sign which was understood, 'he nurse took down from the shelf the 5inc old drum, scarred by half a doz.en ullcts, from the hook the uniform, liich lad not been worn for twenty >ng years. "Ah! comrade,1' whispered the drumler as strength came back to his limbs, we may have been driven, but we ever suircndercd. We will not now! et us form the lines as of old." "Aye! we will battle again," cried :ie nurse, and lie placed a faded blue up on his head, brought out the old luskct and continued: "Attention! Right dress! Steady, now, ion! There's the battery before you! iTe will take it or leave our bodies in le meadow. Forward?double-quick -hui rah!" "R-r-r-r-mt! tat! tat!" went the drum, nd the old grey-headed druinmei raightened himself up and made the irks fly "Forward, men?forward," shouted ic uursc as he waved his cap oil igh"Tat! tat! R r-r-r?tat! iat! tat!" \ Minded the drum, and the veteran who and led the sticks breathed as though ic old enthusiasm of battle was upon ini a^ain. "Here we are?at them, men?the uns are ours!" shouted the nurse. "Hurrah! Hip! 'hip?r-r-r tat! tat i -r-r-r !" \ The drum fell to the floor, and the nirers loosened their clutch on the :icks. Then the old man's hand crept j) to"remove his cap, a cheer died away i liis throat nnd lie sank to the floor a irpse. "Wo have been defeated!" whispered le nurse as he looked down noon the end, "but it "was by the army of eath. M. Quad. j After 151 sick berries. While lying in the rifle-pit.1;, one day, eforc Port IT:i.lson, says a ?vriter in ic Vidctlc I witnessed the coolest per)rm:ince I ever saw during the war. nst across the road from where I lay, ehind a cotton bale, was a regular ingle of blackberries, and they were ice ones, so very nice as to tempt the ppetite of a soldier, so that he Was onnd to have some of them at all events. o out he went for the berries; V>ut not >ng was he permitted to eat unisturbed, for he was quickly spied by a ;bel rifleman inside of the works, about vc hundred yards away, who soon sent is compliments to Mr. Bcrrypicker in ?e shape of a ball from his rifle. Noth ig daunted, however, at such a trifle * that, the fellow kept ou eating beres, in the meantime keeping a close ' atc-h on the breastworks; and every me he would see a pult of smoke he ould move so that by the time the ball rrived whero he was lie was not there. o show how good the rebel was with a I tie. the last shot he made at the berryicker will suffice. After eating all the erries he cnred to, the soldier started ;ross the road; and tlicrfc the rebel id a clc?r sweep at him, and just as he lit t the middle of the road fired; the ldier stopped, and suddenly stepped nek one step, and I saw the dust fly ght in front of his foot,' so if he had ond still instead of stepping back the^ ill would have struck right between is feet. A Fiendish Plot Discovered. One of the most diabolical plots ever lanned to overthrow a government has ist been discovered in Guatemala, the oat thriving Republic of Central merica. It was a scheme to set fire to ic Grund Hotel and the theatre at -a iven time when thcro might be exected to be a full house. In the panic int would certainly ensue the intention I the conspirators was to take posses011 of the barracks without any great 8k to themselves. President Barrillaa id his family were to be murdered, all treignere attacked and the city sackcd. he' discovery of the plan led to the rest of about fifty persons, including >me colonels in the urmy, and they are aw undergoing trial for their treason* >le designs.