The Newberry herald. (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, September 28, 1882, Image 1

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

T~E IIRALD **~ IADVERTISING~ RATES. tHE H ERALDta.,' Advertisements inserted at the rate er IS100 per square (one inclh) for rs insutlon s ruzzIsamaand 75 cents for each subsequent Insertior, V&RY T UR D YDoRI G,-b e olumn advertisements ten per e .;, MI onabve I~V~R THtRSDAYMORNNG, otesct eresprsquztae asd orinatc At ewher, S. C-/ adve otiesi BY THOS. P. GRNERKPA dvertisementsnotmarked with the n ber of insertions will he kept intll fobid Editorand charged accordingly. tie wth ral de etions a vetes T enss .@Oper -a , A Family Companion, Devoted to Literature, Miscellany, News, Agriculture, Markets, &c - Invariably in Advance. TI: paper is .toped at the expiration DONEoWITHfNEATNESS_AND_DISPATCR .t....,s.b Vol. XV111. NEWBERRY, S. C., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 1882. No. 39. TESCAS. A YOPULAR OLD PAROiDY. QoECTZD COPY ROM THE EANDS OF THE AUTHOR. Corr. Courier-Journa1? T:a famous old parody on Poe's "Raven," entitled the "Ager," which has long been floating wisb-the currents of newspaperdom, and getting knatked and jammed in'to all sorts of shapes, was written by my father, many years ago, while residing in the neigh borhood of Louisville. Thinking you might Hue to give it to your readers as is first ap peared, I this morning asked my father to correct a copy into its original shape for the Courier-Journal. He has complied with my request, and you will find the corrected copy below. . Respectfully, Miss Lun STE. "iobile, August, 1882. THE "AGER." [By Prof. J. P. Stelle.j Onee upon an evening bleary, While I sat me, dreamy, dreary, In the sunshine, thinking over Passing things in days of yore; While I nodded, nearly eleeping, Gently came a something creeping Up my back, like water seeping Seeping upward from the foor. "'Tis a cooling breeze," I muttered, "From the regions 'neath the floor Only this, and nothing more" And distinctly I remember It was in one wet September, When the earth and every member Of creation that it bore, Had for weeks and weeks been soaking In the meanest, most provoking Foggy rains that (without joking) We had ever seen before; So l knew it must be very Cool and damp beneath the floor Very cold beneath the floor. So I sat me, half way napping, In the sunshine, stretching, gapping, Craving water, but delighted With the breeze from 'neath the floor, Till I found me growing colder, And the stretching waxing bolder, And myself a feeling older Older than I'd felt before; Feeling that my joints were stiffer Than they were in days of yore Stiffer than they'd been before. All along my back the creeping Coolness soon was rushing, leaping, As if countles frozen demons Were attempting io explore All the cavities (the varmints) 'Twixt me and my nethergarments, Up into my hair and downward Through my boots into the floor; Then I found myself a shaking, Slight at first but more and more Every moment more and more. Soon I knew what 'twas that shook me; 'Twas the ager, and it took me Into heavy clothes-to every Place where there was warmth in store; Sbook me till my teeth were claatering, Till the tea they brought went spattering From the cup, while all my warm'ng Made me colder than before; Shook me till it had exhausted All its powers to shake me more Had not strength to shake me more. Then It reste till the morrow, . When it came with all the horr -That It owned, or,e'en could borrow * Shaking harder than before; - Jrd from that day damp and1dreary, When I sat all dreamy; bleary. .It has made diurnal visits, Shaking, shaking, oh, so sore! Shaking.off my boots, and shaking Me to bed, if nothing more Fully this, if nothing more. And to-day the swallows fitting Round my cottage see me sitting - Moodily within the sunshine, Just inside my silent door, Waiting for the ager, seeming Like a man forever dreaming, And thelsunlight on me streaming Throws no shadow on the floor; For I'm.now too thin from ager To make shadows on the floor Nary shadow-any more! * . AT WILLIAMSBURG. Prof. W. M. Grier, sixth 5. C. Vol., in the Charleston Weekly News. Tbe leafy blossoming Present springs from the whole Past, ro. memnbered and unrememberable and truly the Art of History, the grand difference between a Dry asdust and a sacred Poet, is very much in t,his: To distinguish well what does still reach the surface and is alive and provident for us ; ansd what reaches no longer to the surface but ' moulIders safe un-l dergrounad, never to send forth leaves or fr-uit for mankind any more ; of the former we shall re joice to hear; to hear of the latter * will be an affliction to us. (Carlyle's Cromtwell. Williamsburg is a small town in that part of Virginia known as the .,ninsula, about twelve miles from Yorktown. It numbers Slea'. than two thousand inhabi tants, but its historic interest is vi~ not meaured by: its size. -Life op its near neighbor, .Jamestown, it rs one of tbe venerable things in Rthis country, is this country, so joung and fresh in its cities, its ~stiLtions and its indo8tries. It links us to the earliest Colonial period, and has its traditions and its authentic history a hundred ye:+rs older than our Revolution ary struggle. It claims the spe cial friendship and intimacy of kings and queens who, near two hundred years ago, lavished upon it their favors while the Puritan Quaker, clustering about Ply mouth Rock and Philadelphia, wpre just fairly establishing i hen aelves. Muny persoeir have f"r gotten that this now obscure town was onEe,he mnetropolio of Virginia, where the beauty, woalLh and f %ion of a'ge.nuine aristocracy sought and found its I highest social pleasures. If we may believe the ancient chronicles the society of Williamsburg in its palmy, Colonial days was close ly modelled in its etiquette, the general habits of its citizens and their style of living after the I im memorial custom of the English gentry. There was a quiet, state ly dignity, a courtly formiality and exclusiveness which marked at once the true Cavalier. All this has passed away. and so long ago that the oldest citizens speak of it as P tradition handed down through three or four gen erations. Williamsburg is now one of the most insignifieant towns in the State. It seems content to live on the glory of the past. William and Mary College, so long its chief distinction, has practically, if not actually, sus pended operations ; and now the first impression of a visitor to the place is that of staid, settled com pleteness. Everything about the place indicates a life whose ener gies are exhausted and which re joices in memory rather than hope. This town was the scene of one of the early battles of the late war, the opening skirmish to a series of fierce and bloody engage. mente, in many respects the most remarkable of the whole straggle. For a brief period in the spring of '62 the Peninsula became the seat of war. Gen. McCellan having trasferred his entire force to Fortress Monroe, it became evi dent to the Confederate authorities that an attempt was to be made upon Richmond by a new line of approach. The gallant Magruder was at Yorktown, and with won derful skill and boldness held in -check for weeks a force ~vastly larger than his owdn, until Gen. J. E. Johnston came to his aid with reinforcements that were weary of their winter quarters and eager for a trial of their strength with the enemy. in this they wei-e to suffer disappointment. Gen. John ston was not long in reaching the conclusion that he must withdraw from his positron or be flanked by the enemy, who held possession of York and James Rivers, on either side of his encampment. THE RETREAT FROM YORKTOWN. The abandonment of the forti fiations was conducted with such skill daring the night of the 4th of May -that the enemy was not aware of the - movement until hours after every soldier was out of the rifle-pits, and the last one of Longstreet's . rear guard was well on his way towards Williams. burg. About daylight on the 5th a part of Loungstreet division was placed in position near Williams burg, occupying some detached works which Gen. Magruder had constructed about the town the most important and strongest of these being Fort Magruder. Gsn. McClellan had pursued us closely, and it became manifest that a stand must be made if-Gen. John ston's retreat were to be covered and successfully accomplished. There was some scattering firing all the morning, but the troop~s were not well engaged until about noon. The battle lasted until late in the evening with no decided advantage on either side. The enemy claimed a victory, but the fact is we held our ground during the entire day, and until all the time desired for Gen. Johnston's retreat .was secured. WOUNDED AN%D A PRiSONER. The brigade of Gen. Anderson, with which''I was connected, oc e up jd a posLiionl on the- left of the Sixth South Carolina, was o dered to advance on the enem about 1 o'clock. The objectiv point was the possession and o< cupancy of a redoubt which, i was thought, the enemy migh seize. The posil-ion was gains. under a well-directft fire of tb enemy, who had greatly the ac vantage of us in their long-rang guns. As we crowded into th redoubt, a place entirely too smal for a full regiment, the enemy with a keen eye, centred his fir on the narrow passage across th deep trench or most surroundin tlbe earthwork. Just here quito number of tee regiment receive( wounds which, though not fata were so serious as to render then unfit for . military service and un able Io get off the field. Th writer was among the number being shot~ just below the righ knee, shattering the limb so badli as to necessitate prompt amputa tion. A little before dark the few am bulances that had not been sen on ahead came round and gathere up the wounded, carrying most c them to a farm-house just in rea of the battle-field, where the sur geons gave them attention. ] %#s hero that Dr. J. McF. Gastor now of Brazil, told us, with tb kindness of a true friend, that on leg must come off. He went t work at it himself, and right ski fully did he do his duty. When we awoke fully to con sciousness our eyes opened upon pitiable sight. It was about mi< night. The light of a single car die threw a ghastjy gre over room in which lay fifteen personi not one of whom could help bin self to a drink of water-the ph. sicians all gone, the nurses skull ing and entirely outeof rea':h e.1 cept an Alabamian who was to timid to leave t,he house. The truth which, strange as may seem, we had never suspecte began to dawn on us, that on army had gone and left as to th care of the advancing enemy. . solitary cavalryman straggling it the very last of. our army, we eagerly questioned and fully cor firmed our 'rising fears. T mental experience of the nea few hours, though still a livin and vivid memory, can never t translated into hitman speech.. sense of loneliness, ministered i by surrounding darkness, a fee ing of utter helplessness, couple with apprehensions of cruelty an il-treament, crowded with ev spectres the warm imaginatic of a youth not yet out of b teens. The pain of the amputate limb was forgotten In deep anxi ties arnd forebodings. Hence was with something of a welcort that we heard the steady trano of McClellan's splendid army as approached early in the day. was a relief to an agonizing~su pense, a relief which took on positive character of real pleasui when the dreaded enemy not on] expressed his sympathy for u but gave the most substanti evidences of his good will. H haversack and canteen wel placed at our disposal withol stint. A NEIGEBOR OF THAD. sTEVENs. We well remember a little a of kindness which was so delicat ly done and which was eo fri and cordial that it touched us lii a memory of home and a messaj from loved ones : As the arr passed on there gathered into t.l room where we were lying qui a number of curious spectatol They plied us with innumerab questions, as was natural. One these visitorS who, however, sii ply looked on us and said but l1 tIe, was a colonel. Just befo leavitig the room he approach' me, spoke a few .burried wor full of kinadnes anid claspel n hand to bid me g ood bye. As did so ne lefr. inl my Open pal quite a neat sum of gold an silver. He was gone before could thank him. That was C' Symonton, of the Forty-thi Pennsylvania, from Lancaster, t home of Thaddeus Stevens, that time a conspicuous figure politics. WOMANLY DEVoTIoN. In a ery f'ew dna we were moved from the farm-hou'e to the , town proper where we were e placed in charge of that eminent surgeon, Dr. Rodgers, of New t York. Wbat a flood of kindness poured in upon us from the citi I zeus, especially the ladies. We a were to them the only represen. - tatives of the Confederacy. It 3 had passed on with Gen. John. s ston up to Cuickaborniny and was I beyond the reach of their help. They seenied to see in us the sons and brothers from whom they 3 had been completely cut off. So profuse and persistent were their t attentions that the surgeon had i to interfere and exerr-ise hi- au , thority in prescribing the hours i of company and the quantity of - food they were to bring. The an a selfish devotion of these people was truly wonderful ; only those t who mingled with them intimate r ly and who knew how destitute they were after having been stripped of their provisions and stock by the enemy, could appre t elate the self-denial and sacrifice i involved in the savory dishes f which were daily prepared for r the wounded Cot-federates. It was my good fortune to rest t most pleasntly and comfortably in , the home of a Presbyterian minis e ter, the :ev. Samuel Blain. My e companion was a young Mississip D pian, who bad lost an arm. This I- youth was a representative of a very considerable class of South - era soldiery. When 1 saw him I a was struck with his boyish face I- and, in truth, he was but sixteen years of age. Fired with the en a thusiasm of the hour, he resisted 1, the pleadings of father and mo ther alike and threw himself into the volunteer ranks to risk the fortunes of war and share its hard - ships 'with friends and neighbors. 0 Tenderly reared in a refined, Christian home he Sung away all d dreamps of ease, and with a manly d courage and unflagging spirit he r bore the burden and heat 4f the e day in a life that taxes in no . small degree the powers of human I. endurance. So it was withi thou sands of others, - 'sTONEwALL' JACKSON or THE e FLANK. t The days spent' in th" care of g Mr. and Mrs. Blain were a aeason of constant anxiety to the citizens of Williamsburg. The town was o closely garrisoned by the F'ed derals, andi ab~ couuu-iadou dith dthe outside world was completely dcut off. Only vague -rumors -reached us from the Chickahomi nny. There was just enough to Sawaken without satisfying the d keenest interest. We knew that a fearful struggle was going on Itwhich involved the very life of the e Confederacy, but that w as all. SOne day, however, we gathered news of a decisive charater, and [in' a most unexpected way. In 'the last days of June we were sit ating intepiazza one evening -ewhen suddenly we heard far up y the street the sound of a bugle, s, followed by the clatter of hoofs and the rattling of swords. Soon is a troop of cavalry came along -e looking weary anid travel-worn. it Evidently the troop was made up of fragments of several companies, and there was every indication of ~t complete disorganization. We were e anxious to understand something ,e of the movement. Their replies to to our questions were gruff and e evasive. One fellow, however, in y answer to our question, 'What's ie the matter?' bluntly and honestly e answered: 'Jackson struck our s. flank.' That was the first intima le tion we had of the masterly move of ment of that great captain when he n. swooped from the Valley with his t- 'foot cavalry' upon the right flank re of Gen. McClellan, contributing so ,d largely to the success of that mem Is orable campaign in which the I enemy was driven from the con ie Ifines of Richmond to thge shelter ra of his gunboats at Harrison's id Landing. I S.JAVERY BETTEE THAN FaEEDOM. -l Early in July it began to be rd whispered that all the Confed ae erates in Williamsburg wouldto at taken to Fortress Monroe as soon ias they were able for the trip. A few days before the order to leave was given, a iegro boy an interview. He had a sorrow ful tale to tell and a strange re quest to make. He said his name was George Perkins, that he was the cook and waiting boy for his young master, Mr. Perkins, who belonged to the- Mississippi Regiment, and who was a son of Judge Perkins, of Jackson, Miss., (the wealthy and benevolent gen tleman. %Ne sunpect who founded the 'Perkins protesorship' in the Columbia Theological Seminary.) He said that when the regiment was ordered to leave camp at Yorktown be was left behind 'Now,' says he, 'I want to get back to old massa in the Massissip. Won't you let me go as your boy and take me through the lines?' Dn close questioning I found that his devotion to his master, wbich was evidently strong and genuine, was swallowed up by a bigher feeling-love for wife and chil dren. He told his simple tale and pressed his request with a choking utterance. I assured him I would do the best I coul'for him, but that I doubted very se riousls vhether I could carry him through. From that hour he was my boy, and he clung to me with a vigilant fidelity and rendered me invaiuable service during my stay at $ampton, near Fortress Monroe, the place to which we were taken on leaving Williams burg. No solicitation, no pledge of absolute freedom, no promise of lucrative employment, no petting, coaxing or threats could for one moment shake his resolution or swerve him from his purpose to get back to Dixie. Weeks after wards, when we were exchanged, it was amusing and affecting to watch his original and most ex pressive manifestations of delight as we landed near Richmond. Surely there was no happier home-going during the whole war than that of George from freedom to slavery. It was my pleasure to reward, in some measure his faithful ser. vice by sending him safely to his old home, where he was sure of a welcome from wife and chil. dren and from bis kind master. A trifling incident this, but what a revelation there is in it of that at tachment, stronger than death, which in so many instances characterized the 'peculiar insti tution.' And now we are off from Wil liamsburg under guard, with no ex pectation, even at this day, that we shall ever see it again. But no flight of years cain dim the clear, well-defined features of those dear friends, so true, so unselfish, who even now are looking down upon us from the chambers of Memory, and whose unwearied kindness plucked the sting from- a bitter and painful experience. A STORY OF HOROE -A painful sensation has been caused at Vienna by a story from (Cracow, aceording to which a nun in a convent there has been inhumanly treated. 'She be. longed to a good Silesian family, and gave all her property to the convent eighteen years ago. But for a faith ful old servant, who followed her into the convent in order to be near her, she would probably have died under 'the treatment she received. Her brother could only obtain an inter view with her by calling in the po lice. She had to be supported by two nuns, and appeared in a terribly urmaciated condition. Having refused to accept a young confessor intro duced into the convent some years ago she was confined alone in a cell and the sisters were forbidden to ap proach her. The story runs that she had worn the same gown for eighteer years, and had no ebange of under. clothing, or shoes, or stockings foi seven years. Her cell had not beer cleaned for a twelve month, and shE was neve-r -allowed to leave it. The straw of ber bed was rotten and ful of verwin The sisters with her con tradicted her statements, but shE persisted in imploring her brother t< free her from her terrible position The brother could only provide he with food and clothes. Until th affair has been decided in a court o justice the nun will have to renmaiz where shze is.-&cottish Reformer. In the morning a man gets up -hut in the ening he gets sunnez A TELL-TALE LETTER. The Greenback Conspiracy Bevealed. News and Courier Correspondent. COLUMBIA, Sept. 7.-Tbe Green backers did not cover up their tracks, and a letter which was picked up in the committee-ioom in the State House where the committee on platform, address and resolutions met on Tuesday afternoon, clearly discloses the deep-laid schemes of the miserable rabble who composed the Green back Convention. It. sbows that1 the work of the convention was all cut and dried ; that the body was controlled by soreheaded poli ticians for basely selfish motives; that the movement bas no strength in it and that the prime object with the leaders of this so-called 'moral and political rev olution' is to get office and rob the public treasury. The letter fills four pages of yellow legal cap paper, is plainly written - in black ink, is addressed to Col. R. D. White, (though only his initials are given) and has no signature attached. It was writ ten in Chester, and is evidently in the handwriting of the Rev. J. E. White, brother of the Qreenback nomipee for Eieutenant-Qovernor, and who has been for many years a firebrand in both Church and State. The letter contains a great many emphatic words and phrases. It reads as follows: MONDAY, Sept. 4, 1882. Col. R. D. W.: Dear Sir-Your two Iwo last received, contents noted. I do wish I kpew what Taft wanted. I could write bet ter and more certain. Let me on ly summarize : 1. As to tickes. One H. Bieman, of Walhalla, a German and par ticular friend of Fred W. Wage ner, and at whose house John A. Wagener died, hates $ourbons, has money, &c., and has influence. Has been in the Legislature and ran again, but 'connted out.' He might suit for Secretary of State, or Comptroller, or Adjutant-Gen eral, Speak to T. J. M. about him. He may concentrate the German vote. 2. You have also C. B. Far mer, V. P. Clayton, of Fairfield County. 'Tom' says that McLane will be on State ticket. It will be unfortunate for both Russell and MceLane to run for office. Tha Press will kill them, for it will be said that the movement is only to gratify office-seekers. Let McL. run the -Signal' and wait. Op pose 'his running privately with caution, &c. You must scatter the men on State ticket all over the State, and as J. B. C. is from Charleston that may satisfy. But you can mention the names of Melchers and Bergmann which will be pleasant to them, and give the reason that a distribution of officers over State desired. 3. As to myself, McL. came to Chester and staid some four hours. I was at a dying bed. 'Tom' saw him. But 'Tom' can only talk about his own Congres sional Candidacy, He is Crazy. Nothing else will satisfy him, and McL. is in with him to give him the endorsement of the Greenback Convention so as to retire Cash. Now will Cash retire even then ? No one can tell. And if the Greenback Convention endorse 'Tom' and the Republican Con vention refuse, what then ? 'Tomn' says a great deal that you cannot depend upon about his prospects. And he talks with such assurance as almost tO persuade you it is true. And he has a starL, or I have given such. But I do it very quietly. I have w ritten him up in 'papers, &c. You had better tell him very quietly the opposition to him by Taft & Co. Tell it to McL. first, and see what he says, and if it is prudent to nominate or endorse under the circumstances, or tc appoint a 'conference' between tbe two executive committees, or- refer it back to the Fifth Congressional Convention to determine. Be can did with both McL. and Tomn, andc 'that will give character to your self. This difficulty shuts me out 'of being a candidate for Congress I hae however, griven 'Tomn' I running stari so as to beat J. J. H. Then as to the State ticket and myself. I could tell better if I was in Columbia. I am not yet persuaded that the movement will be a success in present bands, &c. I d. not know if J. B. C. i will accept. If I knew these things or could so believe, I would knw how to act. But you see, if I accept I must canvass the State-a fearful taesk-I am not too stout-I am poor-and 4 then suppose we fail-just through being counted out? All these considerations are weighty. Be-1 sides the people are so t ureiable. 1 They will promise auytbing but bad performers-they are afraid anid think they wIll lose some- j thing, and may forsake me just when 1 may need them. Your Convention on 5th will show you what to depend on-whetber they are determined at any cost to act. Tou can confer freely, and be cautious and certain as to facts. Don't jump to conclusions. Learn everything before you de. cide-for it is to be a bitter and harsh struggle, and much abnee end ridiculc. At present, I pre fer to decline everything-both State and county nomination - and quietly aid you and the ticket and look to the future. I can pursue my profession, &c. I tell you plainly I am puzzled to know what to do. If you conclude to go for Congress then I am out, as it will not do for both of as $o run, and I prefer to aid you, and I can do so through Signal and speeches. I can reserve myself for some quiet appointment, if successful. I can in a quiet way through Signal scourge the Dem ocratic State Ticket and will do so, and advocate independents. The paper I sent you is not the indictment, but only the points in part for a State platform, and you add the National tariff item, Na tional banks, education, National debts. The best way is for you to move to appoint a committee of ten on platform, and then get 'Tom' on it, as I have conversed with him on it, and you can get there yourself and use your notes, &e. You can offer your resolution about managers, &c. Also get up a resolu tion declaring that it is tbe intention of tlhis Independent Convention to have a fair election at any cost, urging organization, &c , and to meet force with force, and that all the powers of Government and law shall be used. Get 'Tomn' to fix up such a resolution, particuzlarly as they are even now boasting of counting out. See to it that every man shall vote-and put it in right box-ae there is no penalhy for speaking attached to'the law and you have no right to padlock any man's mouth. I have urged 'Tom' to speak these matters in open Con vention ~and let it go through the State. I would do it if I was there. I do not want 'Tom' to injure your Convention by too great prominence. See, too, that your Convention is sues a 'New add:z,s' to the State, enlarge Executive Committee to ten or twelve, and let them write it as early as possible. But you~r name must not be on it as you are an In dependent Democrat and this might be a Greenback Executive Committee. From the number attending and the enthusiasm you will be able to form some idea. of prospective success. Please get all you can and give me a candid opinion. But don't you say too much and be moderate. Perhaps it is best that you should nominate J. B. C., as you have spoken to him and you are from Charleston. You can use your article to Signal as your speech, or something like it-plain, pointed-as a man of superior worth, too well known to require any enco miumis, of State and National repu tation, infinitely superior to ballot box stuffing, to tissues and to fraud, the man of all others for the people and the crisis, to restore peace, unity and prosperity to State. Get 'Tom' to second it, and tell him so in advance. After you get J. B. C. then you be quiet. You must get them in advance to engage to receive the nomination with tremendous cheers. See to it beforehand, &c. Do as the Democrats did with H. 8. Thompson. I agree with Wbite from Beaufort. Do try for unity and dig Lnity and let a committee of three elegraph to J. B. C. his nomination:~ -and also write a letter to him, allat -xpeose of Convention. I saw 'Tom' writing to 'Wade Efampton' 3 days ago. I can't tell wbat it was about. But I cannot tell why 'Tom' should be writing to W. 3atapton at such a time, when 'Ton'. s scourging the Bourbons. So watch [on. - If J. B. C. can be elected, he never :ould refuse making you treasurer of he city, and thia would be better than 'ongress, and 'you could give up to raft if he wants it, as you say.: or, roU might get Taft's place in the oest-ofee which would be better stil. ?lay your own best card for yourself;' od let mie know if I ca. help you nd I will do it. Not honor but noney is needed.' AUGUSTA OPERA HOUSE. Last evening the invited guests of he Masons of Augusta, including a arge number of ladies, gathered in he new Opera House to witness the Rlumination of the hall and -the set-' ing of the scenery. The spe.tators were scattered about the spacious par-: uette and the broad balconies, and he scenic effect was taken in from r very part of the house. There ar, imong the stage property of the the tre, 31 sets of scenes, 'with 8 set z pieces; the usual thunder sheet, rain bucket and bridge of the moder. theatre. The seenery last evening was worked by Mr. Speir the archi tect, and the handsome piecesawere shown off to fine advantage. There : t larmony, a taste and freshness about The e -enery which will add greatl to the effect of the plays without de - tracting with gaudy colors or showy tinsel. The drop curtain is-as ele gant painting from Turner1s Bome--, Worship of the Tiber-and elicited general admiration. There are upon: the stage all the appurtenances for. Lights and speaking tube, and all the cordage for working the cartaia and " . the slides, while the floor of the stags contains the necessary trap-doors for dramatic effect. Beneath the stage are six dressing rooms, carpeted and hung with mirrors. The walls and ceilings of the Opera House are fres coed handsomely and ornamented with gilt mouldings, and the columns anished with French gilt. There are: in the theatre four rows of proscenium lights, 242 jets, and the side chan deliers are surmounted with vasesfo bouquets of flowers. 7 The hail will seat 1,600-people but on special occasions provision can be made for seating 1,800 persons. The walls are decorated with Porn perian tints, and the side panels or namented with paintings of Musin and Drama. The parquette is filled with new patent open chairs; the balcony bordered with red satinse and the curtains trimmed with sattne and lace. There are four stall, dn each side of the first balcony, while the private boxes are upon the first 'foor The exhibition of the hall last evening was greatly enhanced by the performance upcn the Chickering concert grand piano of Mr. Braudt. Altogether, the hail presented a besa tiful and brilliant appearance and ths stage 'was considered a gem by ajl spectators.-Augusta Ckronide. They don't speak now. They were engaged to be married, and call ed each other by their first names Tom and Fanny-and he was telling her how he had always liked the name of Fanny, and how it snunded like ~ music in his ears. 'I like the name so well,' he added, as a sort of clincher - to the argument, fthat when sister Clara asked me to name her pet ter rier, I at once named it Fanny, after you dearest.' 'I don't think that wa very Dice,' said the fair girl, edging away from him. 'Ho. would you like to have a. dog named after you?' 'Why, that's nothing,' said Tom, air ily ; 'half the cats in the country are named after .e?.' 'What would youi do if you uwr me and I were you?' tenderly i quired a young swell of his ld friend, aa he escorted ber homefrm church. 'Well,' said 'she, 'if I were you I would throw away that f4ile eigarette, cut up that cane ferfiei wood, wear my watch-chain under nesth my coat, and stay at honA nights and pray for brains.' The~' walk was fr.ished in silence, and it presumed that for once in'his life, the yongn man thonght hard.