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I * ( leWis M. gris^ j ~ 2ln fitbrpcnbcnt Jamlg i!lfi';u-::jur: ^for l|e ^rrnnoiiim of % political, Social, ^gritnlt?ral airb Ctmmmiaf fntmsts of % S<n% ~ VOL. 12. YORKVILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 1867. 1STO. 43. ?tigtaal foetrg. For the Yorkvllte Enquirer. " I "THE HEAVEH8 DECLARE THE GLORY OP GOD." The earth with beauteous works is filled, Which tell his wisdom, love and power ? ! The pasture green; the rolling hill; The modest, tinted, wayside flower; j The placid, silvery, shining lake; The ocean with its mighty roar His wondrous love r.nd wisdom speak, j Sounding his praise from shore to shore. ^ But they' re unheeded when we turn j From them to brighter scenes above, Where Heaven's undying fires burn, Where sparkling hosts in glory move. The sun, that give^to earth her light And warms her with his cheering beams, , That gives the flowers their beauty bright And silvers o'er the winding streams; The moon with mild and gentle ray, That sheds her soft and placid light Upon the earth at close of day ^ To dissipate the gloom of night; t These, gracious God, thy might declare, And for thy wondrous glory show; Though earth is bright, her beauties rare, y No works like these are placed below. And do the glorious Heavens boast ? No other gems on high? Behold the brilliant stellar host, That studs the azure sky. A starry crown shines brightly there, . Is it like those, which angels wear? ' And Lyra?has it e'er a tone < Like golden harps around the throne ? t Majestic does Orion stand, * I A club uplifted in his hand, .; J With jeweled sword and starry belt, As if no scorpion sting he felt. ^ The stars, O God, thy might declare, And for thy wondrous glory show; Though earth is bright, her beauties rare, * No works like these are placed below. 0 Oh ! who can view the Heavens above, The lightning's flash ? the purple cloud, And, with a heart devoid of love, With atheists say, "There is no God?" ' Manning, S. C. CLARIONA. a ? Original gtouvetette. t ? V Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. f ELINOR WESTVELT; I OR, The Tory's Niece. * A STORY OF THE REVOLUTION OF 1776.Jca BY CAROLINE F. PRESTON. t CHAPTER XH. c AN UNEXPECTED STRUGGLE. "I might as well make myself comfortable," said j the peddler philosophically, "while I am waiting ? for the Cap'n." He accordingly drew out a clay pipe and pro- ? ceeded to fill it with tobacco, which he carried loose in his pocket "Lucky they didn't take this," he said. "A pipe t is a poor man'sbest friend." Jock lighted his pipe, and proceeded to smoke a with great tranquility and evident enjoyment? j. Thus, a part of the time passed without weariness. At length the two hours had elapsed, and still . the Captain did not make his appearance. "I guess time passes quicker with him than with t me,'' thought the peddler. ' 'I know it would with me if I had such pleasant company. I guess I'll j. wait ten minutes longer, and give 'em a chance to kiss and bid adoo to each other." Jock waited the ten minutes specified, and then rising from his grassy seat, stretched his limbs and j, took his way to the place of rendezvous. j The distance was not great, not exceeding a mile, j( and it did not take many minutes for the long limbs of the peddler to traverse it ^ When at length he reached the summit of a lithillock, from which he had an uninterrupted view of the scene, he was considerably surprised to see no evidences of Captain Peterson's presence. "He can't have gone to meet me," considered the peddler. "No, that ain't possible, for I come ( the only direct way. Perhaps he may be in the i cabin." I In order to ascertain whether this was the case, a the peddler advanced as far as the entrance of the <3 cabin and looked in. There was nothing to pre- t vent this, since the door had been battered down, or carried off some time since. The reader does not require to be told that Jock's scrutiny was not regarded by any discovery. The cabin looked deserted, and bore no marks of recent occupation. \ "Well, that beats me," muttered the peddler. 1 "I'd like to know what's become of the cap'n. I c guess I'll reconnoitre a little, and see if I can't find some traces of him.'' f Jock emerged from the cabin and began to scru- li tinize the appearance of things about him. His c eyes were trained to watchfulness, and were likely 1 to discern what would have escaped the notice of i others. Walking slowly about, he halted beside the hoi- t low oak which has been before mentioned, and his t practised eye at once detected the marks of a struggle in the confused foot marks which had clearly t imprinted themselves in the soft ground. i The peddler's countenance changed. He at once j sprang to the conclusion that the same persons had \ deprived the young officer of his freedom to whom ( he had been indebted for the purloining of his car- t pet bag. . "Them varmints have got the Cap'n, there ain't ] a doubt of it,'' said the peddler to himself. ' 'Confound 'em, I'm sure of one thing, they didn't take I him without a struggle. Well, there's another < grudge I have got agin 'em. I had determined i before to follow 'em and see if I couldn't manage < to get my pack, and now I'm doubly determined i on it. It'll be a chance if the Cap'n and I ain't a match for the blubbers, even if they are six to two. < A Yankee's a match for any three Britishers, any ] day. 4 i "Indeed," said a satirical voice close beside him. Looking up with a start, the peddler recognized ] the familiar countenance of Major Arnory. ] "So you've got along, have you?" said Jock, < coolly. < "What dg you mean, fellow?" demanded Major ' Arnory haughtily. 1 ' An kA kl,n* c-(w>nno? T'm o TEV?U.mPi?niflC indl W mat) oviau^gi) x ui w uvu vidual. At least that's what I always was told." ] "I believe you were making a remark about the 1 relative bravery of the British, as you call them, i and the Yankees." < "Not as I know on." ] "Didn't you say that a Yaukee was a match for three Englishmen, auy day?" 1 "Well, I think it's very likely I might have said something to that effect'' "Then your sympathies are enlisted on the American side, and you have been sailing under false colors for a long time back." "How do you make that out ?" asked Jock, with an appearance of simplicity. "I didn't tell you what the Yankees were a match for the English in. Judgin' from my feelins at this present moment, I reckon that I should be a match for any three Britishers in eating. "This subterfuge will not serve," said Major Amoiy sternly. "I know enough of you to be certain that your pretensions of neutrality are only put on as a mask to veil designs inimical to us." J "Don't use so many dictionary words if it's just as convenient," said the peddler composedly.? "The fact is, my eddication has been rayther neglected, and don't go beyond words of six or eight syllables. I don't know what nimmicle means." t "I will endeavor to sink to your comprehension, '< then." -i0 "Well now, stranger, that's very good of you. ['11 speak a word for you when I see General Clinton. However, don't let trie interrupt your remarks. [ am railly very anxious to know what you think of me. You was asayin'?" ir "I was saying that I understood your position d ivithout difficulty. You are a spy in the employ h if the Americans, and? S "Well, stranger, I've heard more news thismor- ^ ling than I have for a long time. Perhaps you'll ? et. mp ask von nnp nr two pupations in return.'' I "I may, or I may not.'' ? "Well that's accommodating. The question I van ted to ask was if you know Captain Peterson of ^ lie American army.'' ? "I have not the honor of his acquaintance." n "The one that's goin' to marry Elinor West- a relt" The Englishman winced, which the peddler ob- ^ erving, determined to follow up his hit. f{ "I should have supposed she would speak to rou about her lover.'' 01 "Fellow, you are getting impertinent," said the E Englishman hotly, unable longer to repress his inlignation which was the greater, because he knew k here was a degree of truth in what Jock had said, ti ind felt his jealousy rising when he heard the al- b usion to his rival. "Whereabouts?" asked Jock, his eyes gleaming rith enjoyment of the Englishman's anger. "I will teach you." said Major Amory, brandish- sj ng his cane, and laying it smartly over the pedUer's back. "There, is that an argument you can inderstand?" , "I'll let you know about that," said Jock, losing ^ lis appearance of lethargy, and becoming instinct ^ rith life and activity in every muscle. That's an ti rgument I usually answer promptly when I can ^tachanoe." hi Jehoachim Stebbins (we must now and then use d< lis whole name, lest our readers should forget it) ras a man of both strength and agility. In strength 'e >erhaps he was equalled, though certainly not ex- tc eeded, by the Englishman, but in agility the form ra r was greatly the superior. . to The success of his present attack was due in a e jeat measure to its impetuosity and suddenness, kt all events, Major Amory was borne to the tarth, ? ... TaaU kft/I 1.11.non nnnn tlin nflfi- A iliU III & lliUIUCIit t/VA-ft. uau UiO auuu U|/VU bUU v?u ? er's .breast tl "Let me up, villian!" demanded Major Amory, y< mmiliated by his defeat, and yet more furious beause of his humiliation. lo "I shall wait till I get ready, I reckon," said the u] >eddler coolly, "0, you needn't tear round so.? y< it won't do no manner of good, and will only use w ipyour strength." "Let me up, I tell you, or I will have you hung P< rom the nearest tree whenever I get you in my tower." ty "Perhaps you will, stranger, but it so happens k( hat I've got the power just now. That makes all he difference in the world. Now I wont hang you, & lthough I make no doubt you deserve it, but I ca inder surmise you ain't so prepared to leave the rorld as you might be.- But if you ain't no objec- to ion, and on second thought, whether you are or b( lot, I'll just take care that you don't have a chance o repeat that little trick of yourn." ni So saying the peddler managed to get a cord from ui lis pocket, although the Englishman's struggles aade it not altogether easy, and succeeded, though at iot without great difficulty, in tying the hands of di he refractory soldier. After doing this, he found si t a comparatively easy matter to secure his feet laving done this, he arose from the ground, and to joking down at his prostrate enemy, remarked, if "Well stranger, you see you can't blame me. I sa lidn't begin it There's a couple of lines my lil aother used to tell me of, that I guess would suit our present case. They are h( 'Your little hands were never made B To tear each others eyes.' " J( "I reckon yours can't till you get 'em untied.? tj lood-bye, and don't forget to tell Miss Elinor who w t wa.j that flattened you. Sorry I can't stop to a] ;eep you company, but the fact is, I m a little in ^ ; hurry. I wouldn't scowl so if I was you; it lon't improve the looks of a naterally plain coun- ti enance." oi si CHAPTER XIII. " MAJOR AMORY S RELEASE. Leaving Major Amory, bound and helpless, to hi rent his rage in impotent execrations, the peddler ai lastened from the spot where he had gained so deisive a victory. qi "I wouldn't like to feel so uncomfortable as that ti ellow does," he chuckled to himself. I r'ally be- ic ieve he'd hang me up to one of these trees if he inly got a chance. But I don't calc'late to give e< dm a chance yet awhile. I've got a little more h: ise for my liberty before I surrender it to him.'' His fit of exultation over, his apprehensions for he possible fate of Captain Henry Peterson re- ?] urned in full force. di "I only wish I knew where he was," he mutter- w *1, with a clouded brow. "I suppose there ain't h 10 doubt them varmints have got hold of him. I w ihouldn't be at all surprised if that was what they w vere prowlin' round after. If I could only find >ut which way they went, I reckon I could contrive c< o get up some dodge or other that would free him. ^ The Captain's a brave man, and he ain't one to be ?ept easy." t< Friendship and lucre both conspired to stimulate :he peddler to his pursuit of the foe. But he might p ;ven now be wandering from the track. It was leedful to pause and economize his force, by en- t< leavoring to decide upon the right direction in ? which to exert it ci The peddler had mingled somewhat with the In- fi iians, and he was not unacquainted with their \ method of tracking an adversary by those signs imperceptible to others, but plain as print to them. w At length, emerging from the fields upon the p hiVL mad he came to a small house occupied, as he had occasion to learn in his trading trips, by a wid- y dw and her daughter. The road in front of their 0 dwelling seemed to indicate that a company ofsev- ti sral men had passed, and had made a stop at the house. Reconnoitering a little, since it was possible they d might be still there, the peddler at length satisfied himself that there was nothing to be feared on this r score. He accordingly advanced boldly, and with- t out attempting any further concealment, and \ knocked loudly and authoritatively at the door. \ "What do you want?" inquired a tremulous wo- f man's voice from within the house. "I don't wan't to hurt ye, so ye needn't be <j afraid," said Jock. "Jest open the door, and let s a feller in, will ye?" ' The bolt was quickly drawn, and the widow Hig- v gins, with a tone of relief, said, "0, it's you, Mr. ] Stebbins, is it ? I was afeard it was them plaguy Britishers come back.'' <; "Just what I was going to ask you about, Mrs. Higgins. When did they stop here?" ^ "Nigh onto an hour ago, wasn't itLucindy?" j asked the widow, appealing to her daughter. c "Not quite, mother, I don't think," said the c daughter. "Did they have a prisoner with them?" asked rock eagerly. "A prisoner! I didn't notice any." "How many were there of them?" "Four came to the door." "Four ? There was six of 'em besides the loosnant with eppylets on his shoulder. Was he with 5m?" "Yes, he was one of the four." "What did they want?" "They asked for something to eat and drink." "Did you give them anything?" "I had to. I thought I oould make out by giv]g them bread and milk, but they told me if I ian't bring 'em cake ana cider, they'd hunt the ouse through till they found 'em. So I had to ive 'em some gingerbread. I'd just made enough ) last a week, and they ate the whole of it, besides irrying off the only barrel of cider I had. I wish 'd got some left to offer you Mr. Stebbins. I'd a ood deal rather give it to you than to them." "Thank ye, Miss Higgins," said the peddler, hose country habits led him to make no differnce between the title of a married and an unmarked lady. I shouldn't have cared if they'd left me little, for 1 feel consumedly thirsty." "I've got some milk if you can relish it," said le widow, with whom the peddler was a special IVUiiVQ* "I guess I could," said Jock. There's one kind f milk that you are always provided with, Miss tiggins, and that is the milk of human kindness." "Thank you, Mr. Stebbins. I r'ally shouldn't now how to turn away from a feller creetur in dis ess, unless he was a Britisher. But lor what has ecome of your pack ?" "That's jest what I'd like to know, Miss Hig _ >1 IDS. "You don't say you've lost it?" said the widow rmpathizingly. "Yes, but I do, and I know who's got it, too." "Who is it?" "It'sthem British varmints, and I'm glad you sked the question, Miss Higgins, because it re- 1 linds me of my duty and I musn't stop to waste 1 me, but be after them." 1 "Don't go and resk your life foolishly, Mr. Stebns," said the widow anxiously. "What can you 1 j agin so many?" "Well, Miss Higgins, I don't expect I could lick 1 m all in a free fight, though I shouldn't be afeard 1 tackle two or three of the rapscallions, but I ither guess I'm a match for them in craft, and J s in that way that I expect to get the better of 1 myet" 1 ' 'But you must be cautious, Mr. Stebbins.'' ' "That's jest what I calc'late to do, Miss Higgins. nd I'll tell ye what, when I get back my duds, ' tere's a handkercher amongst 'em that I'll give ' )u to pay for your friendliness." { The old lady, who had a spice of vanity, over aded the peddler with thanks which he broke in ' pon by asking, "Now, I'll be greatly obliged to ' }, Miss Higgins, if ye'11 jest let me know which ' ay the critters went" "They went up that, way," said the widow, * rinting up the road. "Then I must be on their tracks at once. Good 1 re, Miss Higgins, I hope to bring you that hand- ' jrcher before long." And the peddler, passing over the threshold, be- 1 - ^ j ?? c? i in to sinue up me roau whu a uto 01cj*, muvu rried him over the ground at a rapid rate. 1 Leaving him to pursue his course, we go back the prisoner, whom he had left in durance vile, ^ >und hand and foot under the tree. It would be difficult to tell which feeling was : ost predominant, that of anger or shame, at his 1 lexpected discomfiture. For a British officer to be thus easily overcome, , id that by a Yankee peddler, was an insufferable 1 sgrace, and this disgrace would be doubled if it lould be known. Upon one thing he was resolved, and that was, 1 i give the peddler short shrift and speedy death, ? ever he got him in his power; but it was a neces try preliminary to this, that he should himself be berated. 1 He strove to free his hands, since, this done, s would have little difficulty in loosing his feet also. 1 ut this was a thing more easily attempted than , me. Jock, the peddler, was pretty well used to ' ing knots, and he had secured Major Amoiy ith a degree of fidelity which made it a matter of isolute impossibility for him to unloose the cord lat bound him. "Plague take it!" he exclaimed, in great vexa- 1 on, after trying without success for half an hour 1 r more. "The villian took good heed that I lould not get away easily; I hope to serve him a 1 milar turn sometime. If somebody would only mie along on whom I could call for assistance.'' As if in answer to this wish of Major Amoiy, he 1 eard a light step approaching scarcely a minute J iter he had given expression to his wish. He turned about with sudden hope, but it is uestionable whether he felt more relief or vera- i ou when he discovered in the person approochig, his fair hostess, Elinor Westvelt To be caught in this plight by a young lady, and specially one who he felt did not sympathize with is politics, was an added humiliation which, how- < ,'er, there seemed to be no way to avoid. '< He had half a mind not to make his presence i nown, but this was impossible, since Elinor came irectly towards him. She had come because it ; as pleasant to her, again to be in the neighborood where she had so recently seen her lover, and ' ith very little thought of making the discovery i hich awaited her. When she saw and recognized the English offi- 1 2r she started, and exclaimed in surprise, "Major Linory, and bound!" < "Even so," said the Major, with a tinge of bit;rness, "such is the fate of war, Miss Westvelt." 1 "But, how did this happen?" asked Elinor, per- 1 lexed. Major Amory did not propose by any means to >11 the truth. That would be too humiliating.? [e had already, on the spur of the moment, conacted a fiction which would answer to redeem him oiu pusillanimity, and even redound to his credit. Vhat it was, will straightway appear. "How did this happen?" asked Elinor again, 'hile he was arranging in his mind what he proosed to say. "I'll tell you, Miss Westvelt. But first, will ou be kind enough to sever these cords which - - 1 *a\ _ ? ? onfine my hands in a manner, ana wiia a botcare by no means comfortable. "I have no knife," said Elinor. "My sword will untie the Gordian knot, if you io not fear to use it." Elinor, with a slight shudder, which was not so nuch due to her womanly sensibility, as the hought that it might be employed to shed the >lood of her countrymen, drew the weapon, and nth the sharp point severed the cord which conined the Englishman's hands. "Admirably done, Miss "Westvelt. You are luite a heroine. Now if you will hand me the word I will release my feet." In a moment Major Amory sprang to his feet pith an air of great relief, and offered his arm to Slinor. She declined it by a motion, and reiterated her [uestion. A little mortified at the repulse, Major Amory rent on to give his own explanation of the affair. According to him, he had been set upon by four >f the enemy, who, after a desperate struggle had >verpowered him, and bound him as she had seen. "Did you recognize any of them ?" asked Elinor, who thought it not impossible that her lover hac been concerned in the affair. "No, I can't say that I did," said the Major. "I should have imagined that they would have taken your sword," said Elinor. "So should I. I can't account for their not doing so; but perhaps," he continued, an ingenious thought coming to his rescue, "they thought it would be the more tantalizing to leave the weapon within reach, when it was quite impossible, in oonsequence of my being bound, for me to use it" "I wonder," thought Elinor, "if Henry was among Major Amoiy's assailants, and whether he knew who it was that he attacked." Reaching the house, the story was told to Mr. Westvelt, who expressed great indignation al the impertinence of the Yankee rascals. CHAPTER XIV. A STRANGE PRISON. No doubt the question has suggested itself to the reader, "What has become of Captain Peterson?" This question we now propose to answer. When the brothers"Gregson had so adroitly obtained possession of his person, he was hurried * Xl ?* i.1 j away Dy xnem rruui tne scene or me capture. Already vexed with his wife for having been a spy upon his movements, Dick Gregson was not disposed to be over-lenient towards his prisoner. "Come, huny along," said he, "we can't have you loitering along." Captain Peterson was more used to oommand than to obey, and his eyes flashed with indignation as he exclaimed, "Give me but my freedom villians, and it may be you might not to find it so easy to take me again." "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush," said Dick Gregson. "We shan't let you go again in a hurry, my fine fellow." The young officer bit his lip in silence, and accelerated his pace according to the directions of his captor. He had too much pride to indulge in recriminations or provoke a wordy altercation with these men, who would, as a matter of course, have an advantage over him in this respect He hoped that they would strike into the high road, where it was just possible that he might meet the pediler, or some one else well disposed to the cause, <rho might might contribute to his liberation. But this his captors did not seem inclined to do. They struck across the fields, and that in a direction different from their own cabin. It was not here, therefore, that he was to be confined. Captain Peterson was not a little puzzled to account for the motives of his captors. If they had been British soldiers he could readily have understood why his capture was considered desirable.? But this was not the case. However, there was this additional supposition, and it commended itself, on the whole, as probable, that the Gregsons bad taken him on a mere matter of speculation, bopine to be paid liberally by the British authori ties for so important a possession. If this were the case, they might be disposed to let him go on payment of a ransom. He had not much money, to be sure, but oould raise a hundred dollars besides his watch, and these amounted to as much, probably, as they could get elsewhere. At any ate it would be certain, and so worth their while to accept "Hark ye, countrymen," he said, "for I cannot ibrget that ye are countrymen in spite of the somewhat scurvy trick you have played upon me, it is i matter of importance to me, for several reasons, that I should be free. Will you accept a ransom ?" "No," said Dick, shortly. "But I will give you a hundred dollars, promising to leave it at any place you may choose." "We should be blasted fools to make any such bargain as that," said Dick, who appeared to be spokesman on most occasions. What's to prevent pour dodging the terms of the bargain, as soon as pou've got your liberty ?" "My honor as an officer," said Captain Peterson, indignant at this imputation of bad faith. "Humph," sneered Dick, that "aint hardly satisfactory." "Scoundrel, do you mean to reflect upon my honor," exclaimed the young officer, with more warmth than prudence. "Look here, Captain Peterson, if so be that's what they call you," said Dick gloomily, "I'd just recommend you not to use any of them hard names. Just think, before one of'era comes out of your mouth, that you are in our power, and there aint ar/thing to prevent us from giving you a quick ticket to another world" "I fear not death," said. Captain Peterson proudly. "I am no woman Dick Gregson, on whose fears, you can play at will. I am an officer and a gentleman, and as such will resent, at whatever hazard, any insult that may be put upon me." "Then don't provoke me to them," said Dick sulkily. "Where are you going to carry me ?" asked Captain Peterson, after a pause of some minutes. "You'll know before long," said Dick. As has already been said, they had pursued an ? ? .i-e-M. mL!.l 1.,. 3Diique course across me ueias. mis uiuu^ui wuu it length to the banks of a stream. Here the party halted. The momentary thought rose in the mind of the prisoner that they were about to terminate the trouble which he gave them, by casting him into the stream. Although he was by no means deficient In courage, the thought made him shudder, and a wild regret for all that he should leave behind?most of all the maiden who was ever in his thoughts, and who would he knew bewail his loss?all these rushed into his mind, and caused him a bitter pang.? But it was not to be as he had apprehended. His captors were not quite so bad as he fancied, or at all events they had not sufficient inducements to perpetrate this act, for they struck into a path that led along by the river bank, and followed it for about a mile. By this time they came in sight of a small building constructed of wood, of one story only, and entirely without windows. Of course, bei ng so built, it had never been designed for occupation, but had been used as an ice-house by a family of some wealth, who bad lived but a quarter of a mile distant. This mansion, however, had belonged to a family whose sympathies were with the Americans against the mother country, and had been burnt in a sudden foray of British soldiery, led by a brutal officer, to whom courtesy to a foe was a virtue quite unknown. The ice-house still stood, partly because it was not deemed worth destroying; parti" perhaps, laecause it was a distance from the house, and had failed to attract notice. It was situated in a lonely place, and was not likely to be visited, This, no doubt, was one of the reasons which had led Dick Gregson to make choice of it aa a place oi imprisonment for Captain Peterson. It was only three miles distant from the cabin which he occupied, and consequently he could without any great degree of exertion, make a daily visit to his prisoner to see that he remained in security as well as to bring him the necessary supplies o) food. The building was entirely empty of ice, but was of course damp, and the hay which was scattered along t he floor, was a^Q dathPr Rare it was, however, that they intended to imprison Captain Peterson. The door was taken down, and the young office] commanded to enter. "What is your purpose in this, Dick Gregson?' he said, turning to him with a stern glance. 1 "I'm not accountable to you," said Dick. "Go in or we'll help you, if you need it" ] Henry Peterson, after a moment's pause, stepped i > in. He had taken a rapid glance at his quarters, i and the hope of escape was suggested. At all e- i vents, present acquiescence would secure him solii tqde, and in solitude he might devise some plan. : ; The door was shut to after him and bolted, and i he heard the retreating steps of the brothers, whilethe voioe of Dick was audible as he chuckled, "I reckon he won't get out in a hurry.'' < i __ i CHAPTER XV. t A YANKEE TRIOR. After leaving the house of widow Higgins, cheered by the intelligence that the British were not far ' off, and intent upon attempting to rescue the Captain, not to mention the little business of his own 1 in the recovery of the pack, the peddler pushed on. ^ He took care to avoid undue precipitancy, however, since this would be the surest means of brine- ' ing him into the power of the enemy. He knew not but they might have" stationed themselves in 1 ambush with the design of capturing him or some ' other. He proceeded, therefore, with great caution, 1 occasionally climbing a tree whenever he found one ' of any size, fftyd looking earnestly forward, not neg- [ lecting to look behind walls and fences. 1 These precautions, which did credit to the i>ed- 1 dler's prudence, nevertheless served to retard his , progress considerably, so that although when he started, the squad could not have been more than * a couple of miles distant, it was sunset before he s came in sight of them. At this time, ascending a little eminence, he ^ caught sight of them sitting round a fire in an open space just in the edge of a small forest Of course f it would be hazardous to approach much nearer. Somewhat nearer, however, he desired to come, in ^ order to watch their operations. The approach i must be made with great circumspection, since it 1 was quite possible that they would see him, in which case his chances of escape, not to mention the ultimate success at which he aimed, would run ( a great risk of being frustrated. He threw himself down upon the ground and J commenced a sinuous advance, wriggling along, in 1 the fashion he had learned from the Indians, intent ( upon seeing everything, without himself being seen. When he had come as near as he dared, and looked more closely at the group now not many 1 rods distant from him, he perceived that they were making their evening repast Among the rest, he ! perceived that they were regaling themselves with a supply of doughnuts which he had carried in a vacant compartment of his pack. : (IT I .1 1 I i 1J -1_ ? I) 1 "l wisn tne aougnnuis wouiu ciioko em, muitered Jock. "They would if they were as tough as some I've eaten." Meanwhile, the soldiers, stretched on the grass in various attitudes, were evidently enjoying themselves after the fatigue of their march. The officer in command, whom the peddler called the "lootenant," really epjoyed that distinction. \ He was a dapper young man, dressed with a degree of precision which indicated that he was by no means regardless of his personal appearance.? His rank had not been purchased by his personal services, but had been bestowed upon him through family influence, he being the younger son of a wealthy family, allied in some of its branches to the nobility. Lieutenant Eustace, for such was his name, was now taking from his pocket a small glass and comb, und whil^he surveyed bis face in the one, he adjusted his ambrosial locks with the other. "The puppy!" muttered the peddler, who was near enough not only to see, but to hear what was said. "I wonder whether he usually combs his hair just before going into battle. He don't look as if he would relish powder and shot any too much." At this time he perceived the party to be in some confusion. It appears that the soldier, who had in charge the cider which had been levied from the widpw f Higgins,' had broken the vessel containing it, and 1 the consequence was that they were quite unpro- f vided with anything to drink. This, at thq close : offi, hot summer day, when their thirst was naturally increased by the fervor of the heat, was a ] matter of some importance. ] "What is the matter ?'' asked the lieutenant, who t had just completed his toilet, and restored the ' comb and glass to his pocket. "The matter Ls this, sir," said one of the company, "that there is not a drop of drink, and I am { as thirsty as a fish." ^ ' 'What has become of the cider ?'' s "All spilt through Allen's carelessness." IC'HL ? ~ am!.. *?.n* o + A llan Iftnlf Allf ^ 111 ?L1 11/ 13 Kflliy JlUt Li JUL/ XIJ1CU ouuiuu ivua vuv for a substitute. Have you seen any houses in the neighborhood?" "Not one, Lieutenant There isn't one within two miles, so far as I can judge." "Humph, then we shall have to put up with water. I think I saw a spring about half a mile back." "Yes sir, there was one." "Very well, then, Allen, you may take a vessel and go back and bring us a supply." Muttering something in a dissatisfied tone, Allen rose lazily from the green sward on which he had been stretched, and taking the vessel, prepared, reluctantly, to set out This movement the peddler beheld, and with considerable justice, with no small degree of alarm. It multiplied in an alarming ratio the chances of his discovery and capture. He lay beside the very path which the soldier must take in order to go back to the spring, which he too had noticed, and t from which he had taken a draught as he came by, 1 so that he was not now troubled with thirst. If he could only escape notice as Allen went a- a long, he would have plenty of time to conceal him- t self before his return. He drew himself to one a side under the shelter of a bush, and hoped that this would be sufficient to screen him, but his hopes a proved fruitless. As the soldier sauntered along, J his attention was drawn to the bush which bore thimble-berries, and he stopped to pick a few.? t * 1 1_? L. Almost instantly he perceived our nero lying De- j hind it The peddler observing that he was re- f cognized, stretched himself and yawned with an ' appearance of great naturalness, as if he had just * awakened from sleep, and said, "Hilloa, who be ^ you?" t "Who am I? That's a question which it is a i little more necessary for you to answer." "Well, I don't know as I have any objections. 1 My name is Stebbins.'' "How came you here?" ^ "0,1 got tired, and thought I'd lay down." < "Do you live round here ?" ' "Yes, some of the time." It was fortunate for the peddler that Allen had j i never seen him. There were some among the , company who would have recognized bim and at 5 ; once raised the alarm. But another thought had ( r risen in the mind of Allen. He had been as has s f already been stated reluctant, to go back and get . the water, having been much fatigued by the day's ' 1 march, and being moreover of a sluggish disposi- ( 1 tion which had procured him the name, in the por- , . tion of the army to which he belonged, of "Lazy | Allen." ' ^ ! His idea will bo developed in the conversation. 1 "I say, you Stebbins, or whatever your name is, j will you do an errand for me?" ' "May be so. It depends on what it is, and what ' are the inducements," said the peddler. 1 "Well this is it The company to which I belong are down in the hollow there. You can see them. They wanted me to get some water at the spring, half a mile back. What' 11 you take to go for me, and let me rest here?" "Wa'll," said Jock, with a drawl, "What'll pou give?" Allen drew out a plug of tobacco from his pocket "I'll give ru that," said he. The peddler .3 already determined to go, whatever might be the inducements, feeling th^t this ivould be to his advantage in the wav of safetv." "Wa'al," said he, "I don't know but I will, though I'm pretty well tuckered out myself.? Where shall I find you when I get back?" "O, I'll lie down where you did, and eat these berries from the bush." And the soldier, glad of the services of his deputy, flung himself on the green sward, and began azily regaling himself with the luscious fruit The peddler, taking his vessel, walked deliberately away. "I rayther guess he wont get the water in a hurry," soliloquized the peddler. "He may lay there under the bush from now till to-morrow morning, for all I care. Won't there be a precious rowin the amp when they find it out I must see it for certain. I guess I'll take a turn round and come In on the other side where I can watch 'em better ivithout being seen myself. He proceeded to act upon this resolution. Meanwhile, the party in the hollow, already ihirsty, became quite indignant with Allen for his sluggishness. "Most likely he's gone to sleep somewhere and forgotten all about it" said one of the privates. "Hewes," said the Lieutenant, "you may go and ?ee if you can find anything of him." The one addressed, set out on his mission. He found Allen still lying beside the bush, and addresring him with reproaches, inquired why he hadn't ;one to the spring. "I hired a fellow that I saw here, to go for me." "And most likely you won't see anything more )f him or the canteen." A 1 1 J 1 A* ? xL.i.1 1 1 J ! LI Auasneu, ana rearing tunc lie suciuu incur uiuine, illen set out with Hewea for the spring. It is leedless to say that neither saw aught of the pedller. Calling down execrations upon the head of the ifankee and his rascally tribe, the pair went back md reported themselves to the Lieutenant [to be continued next week.] {pMeUaNtM* fading. ADVERTISING AND ITS RESULTS From every section of the country come testimolials of the advantages derived from a well-regulaed system of advertising. A surer or safer investment for business men cannot well be imagined. '.t puts them before the public in a beneficial light hey become "known and read of all men," and eap an abundant harvest from the seed thus sown. There can be no doubt of the fact; patrons declare t; newspapers assert it, and experience conclusive y proves it Here are a few cases gathered from rarious sources illustrating this point. The Adams [New York) Visitor speaks of an illlinent Bnstnnmn whn rafffirdad ao-fldcactkamept . n a newspaper as a personal invitation to call, ana laid: "While I sometimes hesitate about enterng a store, the proprietors of which have not thus sent their card to my residence, I always feel certain of a cordial welcome from the members of an idvertising firm." The same paper adds: "There is in this renark an assurance of one of the many results of idvertising. The trader and his calling become dentified, and the name o? a man is inseparably jonnected in the mind of the public with his mer:handise. It may not be the very day an adver;isement appears that it bears its fruit; weeks or nonths may elapse, and then when the want arises, the article to be obtained immediately suggests :he advertiser. This is the effect of general naver;ising when persistently followed. A special class if advertising, where some novelty is announced, s more immediate. "A shrewed business man once advertised a triiing article in a manner which could scarcely prove emunerative. His neighbors expressed their reKit at hjs folly, but he appeared contented.? ough his gross sales of the article did not cover ;he cost of his advertising, he attracted a new class if people to his store, and his shrewdness paid liui in a very short time, for new eyes saw what le had to offer, in addition to the speciality adver;ised. and new purses came unde& contribution to lim,' In Portland, Maine, we learn from the Argus, Tade was never before more active. "The hotels ire thronged with vistiors, and merchants are kept iusy from morning until night in supplying the vants of their numerous customers. The great >ecret of success which crowns the efforts of so nany of the shrewd business men, is their liberaliy in advertising." The IndianoTa (Ind.) Vutitor relates this incilent: "In 1861, a young man was employed in his place as a clerk in a house, at the moderate iuui of $4 per week. In the fall of 1862 he went nto a small business on his own hook. In 1863 le formed a copartnership with his brother. When he senior of this firm threw his little bark on the i6a of public trade, we suggested to him how to idvertise. He took our advices-followed it stricty to the letter, using more printer's ink than ah "he business firms of Indianola combined. The esult of our advice, together with the honesty, inegrity and go-ahead-ativeness of this firm, has riven them a competency and foot-hold among the jeople of Warren that will tell 'big' in after years." A Western coteinparary says: "Advertising is o the trader what ploughing is to the farmer. There would be some natural production if the sod >f the earth was never broken, and it would hold ibout the same relation to the production of a well :ultivated garden, that the profits of unadvertised rade do to the advertised." Another declares that. "Now-a-days nobody but he slowest dried-up old fossils ever question the idvantage of advertising. One wight with as nuch propriety doubt the evidence of his own eyes md ears. The style and extent of a business man's idvertising is a sure test of his energy and canaciy, the quantity and quality of his stock, and the tmount of business he transacts.'' Prentice, of the Louisville Journal, tenders his idvice to tne public: "Never buy goods of those vho don't advertise. They sell so little that they lave to sell dear." The Brandon (Wis.) Times grows facetious on he subject and vents itself as follows: "Does it >ay to advertise ? Our experience teaches us that t does. A week ago we advertised for a boy to earn the printer's trade. Imagine our surprise (!) in Monday morning, on finding at our domicile an ipplicant weighing just eight pounds and a half, iv e would not guarantee to all such returns by pa ronizing the printer, but this is one instance wnere t was a success." Says the Delaware Republican: "We believe it s a rule, with scarcely an exception, that in every sominunity the merchants who advertise are most i successful, and deservedly so. They are the men vho keep the best stock of goods and sell cheap)St." ? | The following comes from a New York paper: 'The changes going on in society make it neoessan' or a business man to keep before the people. If ie expects to succeed in trade, a fair statement of vhat ne is doing, and will do. is necessary for him?elf and those dealing with him. He must make ;his statement, and does do it in some way if he , tells anything. People are quite apt to g:o where their attention s called, and ii they find things as represented they vill purchase there in preference to spending their :ime seeking elsewhere. Those whose patronage ind influence are of the greatest value never spend too much time in looking up a thing. They nave learned that time is money, and that without time in this world money is worthless. It is conclusive that there is merit as well as profit in advertising honestly and fairlv, in telling people what and how you will do, ana then doing it Those who are willing to trade strictly upon principle can circulate an advertisement throughout an entire community, and it will have just as much force as though they spoke to each individual by word, or each visited their establishment and examined for himself. This advertising only amounts to the same as telling your patron when ne calls on you how you will sell to "It is just to all concerned to advertise conscientiously, and those who do it will findadvertisajRof the utmost importance." THE TWO ARMIES. The following article is from DeBow's Rcvi&c: Here stands a Federal camp, A thousand and ten thousand snow-white tents, farther than the eye may reach. The Star Spangled Banner of richest material floats on the breeze, which swells with the "Hail Columbia" or "Yankee Doodle" of some grand brass band which has figured in the saloons of the metropolitan cities. Sleek and well fed war horses neigh and prance, great herds of lowing cattle are seen in the rear. In yonder tent dloers with blazing insignia and rich broadcloth send the jesLawnnd ovor all iha viands of Fulton market and wines of France. The champagne pops. The fume of regalias scent the air. Velvety m?ta and -? cushions and cunningly devised camp equipage are spread around. Books, newspapers and stationery, maps, charts and picturesj Enter again. This time yon are in the soldier's tent What comfortable blankets, and oil cloths, and overcoats which might defy the snows of Greenland; what weH-filled haversacks; a little stove warms him, good coffee cheers him: all of those oxen bleea for him, and well baked bread crowns his board i Bee that yellow flag. It covers the hospital. Eater if you please. There are piles of bandages, pills and potions and specifics in neat boxes and vessels of gjan crown the shelves. Those cases are the most exquisitely fine instruments of surgery. Those surgeons and nurses are practiced and expert There are cordials and wines in those bottles. There are lemons and ice and all the delicacies of the tropics in those enclosures. Those sick men are clothed in fine linen and repose on genial couches. That body is being enbalmed to be sent home. Oh, dreary contrast I We are now in a Confederate camp; no tents are here; war has worn them out No silken banner floats?it is in shreds and patches and cannot be replaced. The solitary fife and drum discourse the inspiring strains of' 'Dixie.'' Lank and worn the war horse plucks the leaves and barks the trees; a few cows, tough and old and attenuated await their fate. Under the tree grey frocks, faded and worn, with some lace and embroidery, an old newspaper printed on one aide, an old map and a spy glass which was used in the Mexican war, tell that Stonewall Jackson or Forrest are there. Around the fire, smoke dried, reclining on the naked earth, two or three on a blanket, as a matter of economy; the overcoat is in tatters, the haversack is turned inside oat, the canteen has been traded for from Yankee prisoners, the oloak has been picked up on a battlefield?yon have the Confederate soldier! Those boots gape and let m the cold and rain; that hat has been shot to pieces; those pantaloons have lost six inches of the extremity?but when can they be replaced ? *whe soldier cooks his hard meal bread and toasts his bacon on the embers, and in his tin cup he has contrived a substitute for coffee, which is not honored by either n? unm. MnkL cnMioi-l TTa la nnt (mpsinff U 111 At U1 OU^Ui . ^IVWIV OVIVUVt 1U uv? vtuu.MQ the commissary or the quartermaster, but recounting the adventures of yesterday in which many a dear comrade went down, telling rough jokes of the day, or rejoicing in the glorious conflict of arms which the morrow will bring forth. But we have said nothing of our hospitals. Seek not to recall the sickening picture. At first we did very well, but soon even ordinarv oomforts were impracticable and thousands died from the mere want of those ministrations of medicine and genial stimuiants which it became liupuwibl? to provide. WORLD'S END PROPHECIES. A correspondent of the Carlisle Examiner thus sums up the prophecies which have been current in various ages regarding the end of the world : 1. The Jews had an ancient-doctrine that the world will last 6,000 years?2,000T>efore the Law, 2,000 under the Law, and 2,000 under the Gospel. 2. There was a time when the duration of the world was thought to be bound up with that of the Roman Empire, and every comet every earthquake. was regarded as a portent of doom. 3. On being asked by the Bishop of Salone whether the end of the earth was near. St Augustine replied that in all probability a tew years respite would be given to it 4. From year to year, however, the date of- the crash was put back, and finally the end of the ninth century was fixed upon, when there was a special expectation and dread, lasting till the year 1000. which had been definitely fixed upon as the wind up of all things. During that century, mr v grants of estates were made to the churches ami monasteries, under the formula, "Termino mnndi appropripgmnte' ? "Whereas the end of the world Deing nigh!" 5. In U 79, astrologers sent letters all over the world announcing that the world would surely end in September, 1186, amid storms and thunder. 6. In 1524 there was a great terror, as John Stoffler, a German seer, had foretold a universal deluge for the following February. In England, France, Spain, and Italy, thousands fled to the hills, and a Professor of Divinity at Alcala built himself a boat raised on four pillars. When rain began to fall in February, people said, "Now it beginneth!" The four weeks passing over well, the astrologer, says an old writer, "for his excuse, sayd that in his computacion he had mistaken anc. miscounted in their nomber an hundreth yeres." 7. 1586, the Sieur Andreas announced that in two years the world woi Jd come to an end, and that "immediately afterward" all power would be given into the hands of the Turks. 8. Whitson predicted the crisis in the middle of the last century. 9. A Frenchman, M. Turien, taught that "Antichristianism was born about the year 1450; it shall die about the year 1710. This may happen sooner, but do not see that it can go much further than 1740." He fixed the Millennium for 1785. 10. Richard Brothers, an oracle in 1790, proclaimed "the very loud and unusual kind of thunder heard in January last was the voice of the aneels mentioned in the 18th of Revelations," and fixed the 15th of August, 1793, for the destruction of London. 11. "Write, write, the spirit sayswrite," prophesied an old woman in^Suffolk ninety-four years ago, "the high Priest shall never have another Christmas dinner!" 12. Dr. Cumming says it will come in 1867. THE GUELPHS. How Mrs. Victoria Guelph (as her Britanic Majesty used to be very irreverently styled in the columns of the United Irishman) came by her surname, may not be known to all readers. Prom an old history of Germany, loaned us by a friend, we extract the following legend in regard to the origin of this dynastic title: The family of the Guelphs can be traced so far back as the reign of Charlemange. About the year 800, there was a Count of Altorf, in Suabia, whose descendants, according to an old legend, obtained the name of Guelph m the following manner : Isenbrand, his son and suocessor, saw onoe and old woman who had three children at a birth, and, thinking this unnatural, he called her an adulteress. Tlie old woman in anger at this insult, prayed ITeaven that Irmentraut, wife of the Count, might have as many children at a birth as there are months in the year. Her prayer was answered, and Irmentraut yras delivered of twelve boys; but, fearing the seventy of her husband's character, she commanded her servant to drown eleven of them. Whilst the latter was proceeding to obey her mistre?ordere, the Count met her and asked her what was in the basket she was carrying. The girl, frightened, answered that they were guelphs (puppies.) But the Count, not being satisfied with the reply, took off the cloth from the basket, and judging that the children were his own, from their liveliness and strength, he preserved their lives, educated them secretly, and when they were grown up took them all again to their mother. One of tttoIttq fltialrtVi fVio TCrct mno tlin BlUY'eSSOr Of U1AV ITTWtVj \A UV4|JU vug JLUOV) n UO VMV Isenbrand. A Singular Case.?A former living near Mount Vernon, recently killed a beef, in the maw of which was dicovered a large number of shingle and other nails, to the extent of more than a pound. They were brightly polished, and were all taken from one locality. The animal was in apparent good health, and does not appear to have suffered any inconvenience from indigestion.