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lewis m. grist, proprietor.! fitlitcpitbcnt Jfamiln ftcfosppcr: jfor fjje ^promotion: of % |}<rfitical, ductal, Agricultural anb Commercial interests of % jlontj). |terms?$3.00 a year, in advance. "VOL. 18. YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, OCTOBER 3, 1872. N0.40. - j ?he Jdtftg ?eUcv. From the New York Mercury. FIREFLY DICK. HI ~ BY JAMES M'CARROLL. On the eve of the openiug of hostilities beW tween the Americans and the English, in 1812, w an officer named Marlow, belonging to a small British force stationed at Windsor, directly I opposite Detroit, had become terribly smitten ' with Helen, the only child of Mr. Justice Wayne, who resided with her father on the American side of the river, almost within view of the English garrison. This young lady, who was remarkable for her great personal beauty and mental endowments, so far from returning tho passion of her ardent admirer, rejected it with an emphasis not to be 1-Akfnoo on/] ofYnficflpol UilSUUkCli J aitUUUgll tuc UUbUO^/ uuu V^VVIWVIVM* soldier who piqued himself upon his birth and fortune, could not at first comprehend the aversion evinced toward him, and set it down to a bit of coquetry, which simply gave zest to his suit, and which in due course should fall before his powers of persuasion, his lieutenant's commission, and his red head. There, however, he was mistaken ; for the heart of his fair enchantress had already been given to another, who, without being able to boast of fortune or of high blood, was nobili- j ty itself, and as brave a fellow as ever stepped j in shoe leather. The father of Helen, although in many respects an excellent gentleman, had some exceedingly weak points in relation to what is called "familyand hence his daughter, fearless and true as she was, could never summon up sufficient courage to inform him of her predilection for Raymond West, well knowing that he would at once demur to her giving the slightest encouragement to the hopes of a poor and unknown adventurer, who had not long previously appeared for the first time in the vicinity of Lake St. Clair, and who was now nothing but a mere hunter, to be found almost daily in companionship with the red children of the forest, and who nnlv vi'uited thft haunts of the white man from time to time. In this way matters stood, when, the evening before the first gun of defiance boomed across the river between both nations, a party of Shawnee Indians suddenly pounced upon Helen as she was walking alone on the banks j of the river, and, hurrying her into a canoe, bore her across the rapid flood to a lonely point on the Canadian shore, where, just as darkness was beginning to set in, she was placed in the custody of two squaws, who seemed to have but recently taken up their 1 abode in a rude hut, or wigwam, constructed j beneath some isolated rocks at the termination j of an unfrequented promontory about two j miles above the British post, in the direction j of the smaller lake. Here she was at once in-! formed that any attempt to alarm a passing I boat or to escape would be visited with instant j death, while silence and submission would in- j sure kindness and consideration. Of this she | was apprised through signs and a few words j of broken English; and feeling that her life | * * 1 j ? i.? i aepeoaea upon acquiescence, uuieuy a? nci soul was wrung with the danger of her impending fate, and through her sudden separation from her father and her lover, she determined to give her jailors no plea for putting their threats into execution, but to trust in Providence and bide her time with ears and eyes open. Of the cause of her capture she had no conception whatever beyond the general idea j rthat it was one of the first acts of the war, al- j though she had heard previously that of late j similar descents by the Indians had been made at various points on the American frontier re- j suiting in much blood and outrage. Scarcely, however, had she time to reflect j upon the horrors of her condition, when Gen-1 eral Hull, then Governor of Michigan, crossed j the river from Detroit to attack the British post at Maiden, to which Marlow and his companions in arras were obliged to retreat at a j moment's notice, and upon which the Indians ! under Tecumtha and his brother, "The i Prophet," were also constrained to fall back, j This relieved the poor prisoner from all hn- j mediate app 'ehensions of danger, save at the i hands of her keepers; but as in the eyes of the | younger of the two, who was about her own J ? age, she observed an occasional gleam of sym- j pathy and compassion, she had no appreheo- j sion of violence in this direction. Of the pres- j ence of her countrymen upon Canadian soil, I and of the retreat of the British from the ! neighboring post to Maiden she had become ! aware; but still she was seemingly no nearer ! to her freedom that she had been before either ! of these occurrences had taken place, from the ! ? fact that she seemed cut off from all succor, j and had now become aware that one Indian ! (at least) was secreted in the vicinity of the ; hut, who had brought the intelligence that j the Americans, instead of marching upon Maiden, had gone into camp at Sandwich, j where, as history records, they remained sub-1 sequently in criminal inactivity for four weeks, j When Mr. Wayne became cognizant of the j capture of his daughter by the Indians, her j seizure having been accidentally witnessed by a party who recognized her, his agony was of! the most appalling character. He had long ! been a widower, and now he was childless. In j such a dire extremity to whom was he to look j for succor ? War had commenced, and his be-1 loved and only daughter was in the hands of | the most savage of the enemy. He was fren zied and cried aloud in his anguish tor help. Three days and nights of the most terrible torture had he spent, when Raymond West, pale and haggard, stood before him. Hearing that hostilities had commenced between both nations, he had hastened from the West to be near his betrothed ; but had arrived too late, for she was already in the merciless clutches of the Shawnee savages. Raising his tearless eyes to those of the silent hunter, the old man implored him to go in quest of his daughter, and rescue her from the horrors of death and captivity. Had he had the slightest idea that he was addressing the lover of his beautiful child he would have pleaded more eloquently in her behalf; but he had no conception whatever of the existence of any affection or intimacy between them. Raymond he knew as a hunter only and as a man of generous impulses, and he simply asked his aid as one versed in Indian life and strategy. When, however, the young man grasped his hand and assured him, while a stern resolve overspread his handsome features and burned iu his large gray eyes, that bis child should be restored to him, if she was still in the land of the living, all his strength forsook him, and he wept like an infant on the shoulder of his intending benefactor. Although at first Marlow believed that he should be able to overcome "the scruples" of Ellen, as he termed them, to become his wife, he found, just as the war was about to open, that he was utterly mistaken, and that, in addition, she was the betrothed of Raymond, whom he had never seen; West and he beiug utter strangers to each other. This conclusion arrived at, he determined to make one bold stroke that would place her in his power and enable him to wreak his vengeance on her should she persist in refusing his haud and in clinging to his rival. To this end, just before the first gun was fired, he enlisted the services of half a dozen Iudians belonging to the command of Tecumtha, who agreed, for a certain sum, to cross the river by stealth and lie in wait for their intended victim until some op, portunity presented itself of pouncing upon herand carrying her off without the knowledge of her father or her friends to the rude hut or i wigwam already alluded to, which had been j selected by the lieutenant himself and which 1 he should have visited on the very night of j her capture had not the party to which he belonged been obliged, in the interim, to fall bact without a moment's notice on Maiden, I in consequence of the sudden descent of Hull | upon the Canadian shore. While on their retreat he was informed by j one of the savages of their enterprise and the j ! capture of Helen; but it was now too late to ! make any further move for the present; so the ; , Indian received a second bribe to find his way j j back to the hut and furnish it with such sup-; j plies of food as might be necessary for two or j ; three weeks, within which period it was hoped j j the Americans should be obliged to recross i 1 ? * * .? i 1 i .1 i : i the river. Already the nut nau ueeu luuue iu | a measure comfortable ; and now all that was required was food and secrecy, as well as the I strictest guardianship of the poor prisoner, j Firefly Dick had been amusing Tecumtha j and his braves with a thousand pranks at' Maiden, when the post opposite Detroit fell j into the hands of the Americans, and those j | who had occupied it marched into the square ; where the Indian chief and his companions were seated. The intelligence was not unex-1 pected, and pickets were at once thrown out; | | but as the enemy did not appear anxious to j advance at the moment the excitement soon i | subsided, although the utmost vigilance was i [ adopted in every possible way. Dick, from j his simplicity, good nature, and willingness to , oblige either a red or white man in the perfor-1 | mance of any little office, had become a great | favorite with the garrison. That he was a ! harmless simpleton appeared quite evident, | as all his evenings seemed to be passed in i catching fire-flys along the river, and fasten-1 ing them in his hat aud to various portions of! his ragged attire. The Indians had found him j asleep, half in and half out of water ou the ( shore, and had dragged him into camp, where j he offered to fight every savage and soldier, singly or together, and behaved in a manner j so brave and reckless that the officers and Te-1 cumtha interfered, and had the poor fellow j well cared for. From this moment he came and went as he I pleased, and no one molested him. Like most i persons of weak intellect, however, he appear- j ed to possess a certain amount of cunning and j fidelity, while his physical strength was of a i character so extraordinary, that not a single \ individual in the camp would venture to test j it in any hand-to-hand encounter. These pe-1 culiarities soon attracted the attention of j Marlow, and it was, therefore, not long until: that worthy began to evince the utmost kind-1 ness toward him, in the hope of winning his i confidence, and employing him on a mission ' which he felt could not now be intrusted to j the cowardly red man, who, in view of the close proximity of the Americans, could scarcely be induced to move a single step beyond the camp. In the meantime Raymond "West had been engaged in search of his beloved, but to no purpose. Of this the heart-broken father of Helen had become aware, for the hunter occasionally returned to apprise him of how the case stood, but to assure him, at the same time, that he still hoped for success. Raymond had become aware of the passion entertained for Helen by Marlow, and was not slow to believe the latter identified in some way with her abduction. This idea he kept steadily before him, believing that her rejection of the lieutenant led him to prompt the outrage that separated her from her home, with a view to getting her into his power. Of the truth and bravery of the noble girl he was well convinced, however; and thus he felt of a surety | that she would sustain her trials with fortitude, I and turn to advantage every circumstance i that might tend to afford her an opportunity j of escaping from her bonds. In addition, he knew that she never moved i abroad unarmed in the disturbed times that had been gradually but surely invading the frontier, and was satisfied that the slender norvin/1 nnnnnolnrl in lipr lin. otucttv bimv OHV VU111W VVUUVUIVU 4 44 4.V4 4/W sorn would serve her purpose well, should she be placed in a position where it was necessary to bury it in her own heart, or in that of an enemy. While dweliing on this latter a terrible light often stole into his eyes, which, to such as could interpret it, meant that vengeance the most terrible should overtake those who were instrumental in her captivity or death. While Kaymond and her father were thus agonized, poor Helen counted the weary hours i in silence, solitude and dread. Never, for a j single instant, did her jailors permit her to leave their sight, although their ungracious : office was performed with more leDiencv than ! might reasonably be expected under the cir- j cumstances. At night one of the squaws j watched while the other slept, so that an op-! portunity to escape through any want of diligence 011 their part was out of the question. At early dawn, and during the evening twilight she was permitted to walk abroad be- j tween her guards for a few paces among the | rocks, when no glimpse could be caught of i her by any accidental boat on the river, and i where 110 casual wanderer was likely to cross ; her path. This was a matter of some little comfort to j K.%4- It- nftz\* oil p/int?nalir o l\**irrlif 1 iiCI , UllL lb V) U3, iUlL'l Otaivtij c* UJi^iiv ; speck in the midst of the great, dark fear that j overshadowed her. Had she had any clear j idea of what was to be her ultimate fate, ter- j rible though that fate might be, she could i scarcely be in a more dreadful state of mind ; | | and if one gleam of hope flashed for an in-1 stant above her gloomy horizon, it arose from | ! the conviction, that if Raymond "West had I i become aware that she had fallen into the 1 i hands of Indians, no one was more competent to trace out the place of her confinement, or j more interested in rescuing her from her bonds. ' This thought alone served to sustain her at t , times ; although so fearful were the odds j against his success, that the clouds that at in- j ! tervals broke before the flickering ray soon ' | closed around her again with seeming tenfold j darkness. I C? TT 11 1 1 1 xl. ^ U..i. ~ 1 Mlice Illl 11 nan crosseu me river Dili uue ! Indian visited the hut, and he was the savage j 1 who had been bribed by Marlow to return to j ; it and provide it with food, and give, besides,! j the necessary instructions to the squaws re- j garding the safe keeping of their captive. On several occasions subsequently the lieuten; ant sought to induce one or two other red ; men to visit the spot and bring him some in-1 telligence of what was transpiring there, but J i none of them would consent to undertake the . : task, from the fact that a body of the enemy i | lay betweeu them and the place of Helen's ! confinement, and from the additional circum- j stance that all the motions of the English and ; their allies were watched narrowly at every ! | point. i ' It was, then, with no small degree of satis- J _ .i--i 'ir. j? ii ?i.? ItlCUOIl U1UI XUiiriUW LHUUgllt lie |JC1L'C1VCU 111 ; Firefly Dick just such an instrument as he ! ; could use securely in this direction ; and the , more so as the stalwart simpleton professed j his readines to enter the American camp in open daylight, to see, as he said, what was . ' going on there. This he declared he would j do for a soldier's cap and feather, which he i could "dress up so grand with fireflies," and ! which, he averred, would frighten all the j Americans into the river. Soon, therefore,' | both the men began to understand each other, | Dick apparently but slowly at first, until> Marlow became so explicit and confidential, | that there could be no misapprehending him on the part of even the most obtuse intelli- i . gence. It was agreed, consequently, that on ! j the very night succeeding the day on which : {the place of Helen's captivity had been dis- j ' closed to Dick, he should steal along the river 1 under the cover of darkness, in a boat, and j on presenting a token that was known to the j squaws, cause them to enter the vessel with j their captive, when he was to drop down to a j certain point at the water's edge below the English camp, to which the lieutenant was to repair after dusk, and where he should be awaiting them ; and where also a place of con-! cealment should be provided for Helen which ; he could visit, without danger or fear of de-: taction, at any moment. Great care was to | be taken in addition as to binding and gag-1 ging the poor girl before she was placed in j the boat, so that she should be unable to move I or alarm the American post when passing it. All this arranged, Dick and his employer visited the new locality and found it admirably suited to their purpose. It was as far removed down the river from the English garri.1 j:?r.? T nta son us ine nut, iu tut uuutuuu ui jjurs >ji. Clair, was above the American post, so that the boat might land there without fear of discovery ; the place, like the other locality, being totally unfrequented, and the forest being almost one impenetrable jungle to the very banks of the river. Here, then, in a narrow gorge that opened upon the rapid waters through a solid wall of rock, Marlow found himself seated in a small cave at the period that Firefly Dick was supposed to be engaged in accomplishing the task imposed upon him. A few articles of furniture had been secretly conveyed to the spot, and a hamper containing refreshments, might have been perceived in one of the corners of the place. A small table stood in the centre of the romantic space beside which the lieutenant sat in anxious expectation ; the feeble light ofa lamp flickering across his forbidden features, and giving a strange, weird appearance to his narrow red head. As it approached the time when Firefly Dick might reasonably be expected to appear with his prize, he became restless and agitated ; bending his ear to catch every passing sound, and indulging in some imprecation in finding himself deceived. In this condition he had remained until verging toward midnight, when he could no longer control his rage ; and the more so, as the night was so dark he had no means of escape from his self-imposed prison until daylight, unless Dick appeared with his boat. At last, however, and while giving vent to his anger and disappointment in language the most violent, the noise of approaching oars caught his ears, but such annoyance and disappointment had the delay occasioned him, he was determined to resume his seat, and evince no satisfaction whatever on the appearance of his emissary. Scarcely had he arrived at this determination, however, when he heard the sounds of footsteps at the entrance of the cave. Deigning at last to look up, he started, in horror, to his feet. He was in the grasp of armed men, by whom he was instantly bound and gagged, and who speedily hurried him out into the open air, placed him in a boat, and pushed off into the river, in the direction of the American shore. Here they rowed close under the land until they reached a point some distance above Detroit from which thev reeros3ed the river in a line leading diagonally to the post lately occupied by the British, but now in the hands of a portion of the array under Gen. Hull. Touching the Canadian shore in a short space of time, they landed beneath the temporary garrison, aud were soon on their way to the quarters of the officer in command, into whose presence Marlow, still gagged and with his arms pinioned, was at once ushered. The apartment was brilliantly lighted, and for a moment the lieutenant was unable to ascertain who occupied it, so bewildered had his vision become through the sudden transition from extreme darkness to the most dazzling light. Becoming gradually accustomed to the glare, however, he cast a searching glance around him, when, with a sudden exclamation -c -1 u_ i? 01 U1UIIIJ, lit; uu, jJttic anu ?ao|/iu^, against the doorway through which he had just entered ; for directly opposite him stood Firefly Dick, gazing fondly upon the pale though still beautiful features of Helen, who lay clasped in the arms of her father; while the two squaws stood in mute astonishment in a distant corner of the room. Not a word was spoken save by the commanding officer, who paid the highest tribute to the unparalleled daring and intelligence of Raymond, who, as the simpleton, Firefly Dick, had boldly entered the English lines with a view to gleaning from their red allies some clue to the fate of Helen; and had fearlessly mixed with the soldiers in camp, when his life was scarcely worth a straw's purchase. Marlow and Mr. Wayne heard all this with the wildest astonishment; only that in the surprise of the former, there were dread forebodings without a single gleam to illumine them, while in that of the latter there was joy, with a gratitude so deep that on learning from the officer in charge that Raymond and Helen had long been dear to each other, he unhesitatingly placed her hand in that of her brave and noble lover, who had already served the American cause in secretly counteracting British influence among the Indians, and who had recently been presented with a commission in the service. The next morning, Marlow was found, gagged and bound with the piece of wood and j the ropes that he had himself prepared for Helen, floating in a boat on the surface of Lake Erie. When discovered he was very much exhausted, as both his ears had been slit, and his back left in wealts, as if from a cat-o-nine-tails. He was taken on board a small English cruiser that happened to catch a glimpse of him, where he met with much sympathy on informing his deliverers that he had accidentally fallen into the hands of the i enemy who, without the slightest provocation,' had behaved in so barbarous a manner to him. | This story lie repeated 011 his return to camp ; : but there were those belonging to his mess who put no confidence in it, as they knew him to be an unprincipled Scotch libertine, devoid of almost every good quality. In course of j time, however, a rumor of the true state ofj the case reached the ears of Sir Isaac Brock, j when that gallant officer instituted an inquiry j into it, which resulted in an exposure of all I the-facts, and the dismissal of Marlow from j tin service. But, more remarkable still, when all the particulars of the daring and fidelity of West j had become thoroughly known, the name ofj Firefly Dick, or Jack, as the case might be, j was bestowed upon many of the English offi-1 cers and rank and file, who had distinguished j themselves signally during tne war. Don't Hurry Your Cotton.?The Co-1 lumbus Sun has this: "We hear that the largest warehouse firm in this city arc notifying | planters to whom they made advances to cease ! hurrying so much cotton to market. The ef-! feet of this action, they say, is to produce a : false impression regarding the crop. To re- j ceipts alone do spinners of the North and Eu-1 rope look. Cotton has been forwarded rapidly because caterpillars and rust have stripped I the leaves from the plant and left the bolls [ exposed to the hot sun. The great amount i already arrived has locked up an immense amount of money, and hence has depressed | prices. They believe that the lowest point in i price will be reached in thirty, at farthest, in j sixty days. Then, receipts diminishing, and j the fact of a short crop becoming apparent, j quotations must again go upwards, and the country be the gainer thereby. The statements of the past week demonstrate its truth. No hope is entertained in any quarter of a late j crop. That may be found in caterpillars and the results of rust, and they arc not marketable." fpsccUttttcous fvcadiug. Correspondence of the Yorkvillc Enquirer. LETTER FROM "DOWN EAST." Boston, Mass., Sept. 27, 1872. Now is the autumn of our discontent made anything but glorious by the furry of the equinoctial storms ; for the flood-gates of rain seem to be open to their full extent, and the full season has opened anything but auspiciously for the advent of our usual splendid Indian Summer, which I regard as the pleasantest portion of the year in this chilly Eastern latitude. Rain, rain, with the most chilling, disagreeable weather is upon us, destroyin^ for the dresent all out-door recreation. But humanity is never satisfied with the weather?whether hot or cold, wet or dry, somebody will find fault. So what "cannot be cured must be enduredand as it seems utterly useless to remonstrate with the clerk of the weather, I will proceed with the task before me and try to tell you something of the public institutions of this city. In my last letter I was on the Common, but if you will kindly accompany me we will cross over to THE PUBLIC GARDEN, A large portion of which, a few years ago, was covered by the tides, and the rest was j known as the "marsh at the foot of the Coramon." During the past few years much has 1 been done to make the Public Garden attract- j ive, and although it has not the diversified I surface and elegant shade trees of the Com-1 mon, it has already become a favorite resort j for all classes. The area of the Garden is ] only about twenty acres, and not exctly rec- j tangular in shape, as it seems to be when you , first approach it. It contains a pond or artificial lake in the centre, which is irregular and quite picturesque, on the waters of which can J generally be seen a flock of splendid black and white swans gliding gracefully on its | bosom, while here and there many little water I crafts are flitting to and fro with their cargoes j of pleasure-seekers; a sail or row around the pond costing the nominal sum of five cents per passenger. To cross this pond we will take a stroll down the central walk, where there is a substantial.iron bridge resting upon massive stone piers, the whole being strong enough to support the weight of an army on a march. There are several interesting works of art in the garden, among which may be mentioned, a very pretty statue of "Venus rising from the sea," which has a fountain connected with it, so arranged as to throw, when it is playing, a fine spray about the figure of Venus, producing a remarkably beautiful effect. Further on stands a monument to the discoverer of anesthetics. In the centre, on the Beacon street side, stands the bronze stat- j ue of the late Edward Everett. The great orator is represented with his head thrown back and right arm extended as if in the act of making one of his favorite and graceful gestures as was his wont while addressing an audience. But the most conspicuous of these works of art is the equestrian statue of Washington, which is regarded by many as the finest, as it is the largest of the kind, in the United States. It was cast at Chicopee, Mass., and all the artists and artisans employed in its construction were furnished by Massachusetts. This statue is noticeably different from those usually seen throughout the country, as it represents the "Father of his country" at a different period of life from that usually chosen in representing Washington, and is much more attractive for that reason ; the outline being graceful and natural from every point r\f Triour Tt moo nnaf in thlirt.PPn nifififtS. but the joints are invisible. The height of the statue and pedestal is thirty-eight feet, the statue itself being twenty-two feet. As a brief notice of some of the public institutions and buildings may not prove uninteresting to many of your readers?especially those that have never visited Boston?with your permission we will walk up Boylston street and take a look at THE PUBLIC LIBRARY, Which is one of the most beneficent institutions that has ever been projected and completed by any community. This splendid library is not only valuable for the variety, number and excellence of the works which it contains, but from its accessibility?it being open to all without any charge whatever to persons making use of its privileges, and is conducted upon the most liberal principles. If a book not in the library is called for, and it can be purchased, it is immediately ordered, and the person making application for the same is notified as soon as the book is secured. " . 1 . i riaving spent many pieasaut uuurs wituui no hospitable walls, I know something of the benefits to be derived, and, consequently, speak of its merits from actual experience. The original fund for the establishment of this library was contributed by a wealthy and public-spirited citizen named Bates, who gave to the city 850,000, with the understanding that the income of the same should be used in the purchase of books, and the generous donations of many liberal people has swollen the permanent fund of the institution to $100,000. The city also makes liberal appropriations for the purchase of books and periodicals, and for the payment of salaries of at tendants. According to the last annual report of the officers of this institution, the library contained 192,958 books and 100,383 j pamphlets. It is said to be the largest and 1 best library of the kind in the United States, j and is only exceeded in the number of its volumes by the library of Congress. A few steps further up the street, and we arc in front of MASONIC TEMPLE, Situated at the corner of Tremont and Boyls- j ton street?. This building is of very fine j granite, and was dedicated June 22, 1867, on which occasion President Andrew Johnson was present and assisted in the ceremonies. The Temple has a front of eighty-five feet on Tremont street and is ninety feet high, though the top of one of the towers is said to be one hundred and twenty-one feet from the ground. The building is seven stories high above the basement, and only the street floor is occupied j for other than Masonic purposes. It contains j three halls or lodge rooms, on the second, I fourth and sixth floors, finished in Corinthian, ; Gothic and Egyptian styles of architecture, j On the intermediate floors are offices, small! | halls and ante-rooms, while in the seventh story are three large banqueting halls. It is a magnificent building, externally and internally, and is a credit to the Masonic fraternity and an ornament to the "city of notions." TIIE CUSTOM HOUSE, On State street, is in the form of a Greek ! cross, and is in the Doric style of architecture, ! the walls, columns and roof being constructed [ entirely of granite. There are thirty-two : massive columns, which entirely surround the structure, each of the columns being five feet two inches in diameter and thirty-two feet ; high. It is said to have cost nearly one milj lion of dollars. As Boston is to have one of the finest TOST OFFICE BUILDINGS In the United States, I will endeavor to give j you some idea of what it is to be when finj ished. The building is rapidly approaching I comDletion. and is expected to be ready for occupancy January 1, 1873. It has a front of over two hundred feet and occupies the whole length of the square between Water and Milk streets. In order that you may understand the magnitude of this little enterprise of Uncle Samuel, and to show you the "way the money goes," I here give a synopsis of the architect's design : It is to have a basement twenty-eight feet deep, formed by a composition of pilasters and columns resting on heavy plinths or pedestals of the side-walk level and crowned with an entablature two stories above it, both of which are to be enriched by ornate windows and dressings in keeping with the best examples of the style selected. The principal entablature of the exterior of the walls will be very effective in detail, upon which will be seated one of the most conspicuous roofs in this country. In the several faces of the street sides of the roof are to be placed highly burnished dormer windows, to be constructed of stone or iron, above which the roof will be finished with cornices and facia, forming the seating of the bronze grille, intended to enclose the entire upper section of the roof. The architect has introduced several exceedingly novel features _ ?? i-U* a!1 flvrM.rtodiAti oi uuian, avuiuiug iuc oauiciiuo ui ca^iwivu so often noticed in the Mansard roofs. The Devonshire street fajade will be sub-divided into five compartments, by a central projection flanked by two "curtains," finishing at the corners of Milk and Water streets, with "pavilions." The principal entrance is to [ communicate with a broad staircase, located j in a large hall, communicating directly with the second, third and fourth stories. The remaining entrances of this side of the building give access to the post office corridor, twelve i feet in height, above which the strong light, to be secured by large windows in the first story, will insure the lighting of the post office apartment. Two groups of statuary are designed for the central projection?one of them to crown the principal entrance, and the other to surmount the splendid stone "attic" which is to cover the principal entrance. The central group of statuary on the "attic" is to be flanked by sculptured eagles, respectively located over the two outer corners of the attic. The upper stories of this splendid edince win be used for the sub-treasury. The building has been in process of construction over two | years, and it will be at least another year before it is entirely completed. The estimated j cost is 82,000,000. POLITICAL MELANGE. Senator Sumner, who was recently nominated as the candidate of the Liberals and Democrats for the governorship of Massachusetts, it is stated by a cable telegram, has declined the nomination, which seems to give the "black and tan" Republicans hereabouts much cause for gratiBcation. Although the nomination of Mr. Sumner caused much surprise to the people generally, I presume no one was more astonished than that gentleman himself on the receipt of the news. It is rumored that the State Central Committee are looking around for some one to run against the Radical candidate; but how true this rumor is I cannot say, as nothing beyond a cable press dispatch in reference to Mr. Sumner's intentions in reference to the matter has been made public. It makes little difference in the present aspect of political affairs in this State, who # * . .1 a. _/? a1 i. is tne candidate, as tne supporters 01 me great "gift taker" nave the inside track. Mr. Sumner would undoubtedly poll a larger vote than any other man in the State, but the general opinion is that even he would stand no chance of being elected. Notwithstanding the lack of political strength of the Greeleyites in this State, there is a good chance for the reelection of Gen. N. P. Banks, he being personally very popular in his district, and the prevailing impression, especially among his political friends, is that it will make no difference who his opponent may be, the General is sure to be returned to Con gress. He is regarded by many of his constituents as a progressive man, and the desertion of his former political associates is looked upon as his progress and their corruption. Prominent Grant men acknowledge that Mr. Banks can be elected at any time in his own district on his merits alone. There is little probability of Greeley securing the electoral vote of any of the New EnglaucHStates, except Connecticut, and that State is doubtful, though many of the leading politicians there are very confident of a Liberal Republican majority. P. T. Barnum, | the well-known showman, a resident of Bridgeport, Connecticut, and well posted in political matters in his State, feels so confident that Greeley will not only carry the State of Connecticut, but be elected President, that he offers to sell one hundred thousand dollars worth of real estate in his city, not to be paid for until Mr. Greeley is elected President of the United States. General Butler, familiarly known to many of your readers as "Beast Butler," has been ! at his accustomed and genial work again, having recently used his influence to have a poor Irish laborer in the Charlestown navy yard discharged, for taking part in a Democratic caucus. If I am not mistaken, this same "beast" introduced a resolution in Con- j gress last winter condemning the removal of j employes from navy yards on account of political preferences. Hunkidori. Tiie Rich Man's Entrance Door.?That passage from the New Testament which reads, "It is easier for a camel," etc., is familiar to all readers, and has perplexed many good men tvhn Imvp rend if. liferallv. Yet the ex planation of its precise meahing is very simple. In Oriental cities there are in the large gates small and very low apertures, called, metaphorically, "needles'eyes," just as windows on shipboard are "bulls' eyes." These entrances are too narrow for a camel to phss through in the ordinary manner, even if unloaded. When a loaded camel has to pass through one of these entrances it kneels down, its load is removed, and then it shuffles through on its knees; he must kneel, and bow his head, to go through "the eye of a needle," that is the low arched door of an enclosure; and thus the rich man must humble himself when he enters the gates of Heaven. Household Training.?Hall's Journal of j ! Health says: "Training girls for household,1 ! duties ought to be considered as necessary as j ! instruction in writing and arithmetic, and J | quite as universal. We are in our house more ! , than half of our existence, and it is the house| hold surroundings which affect more largely the happiness or misery of domestic life. If the wife knows how to "keep house," if she understands how to "set table," if she has j i learned how things ought to be cooked, how i | beds should be made, how carpets should be j : swent. how furniture should be dusted, how ' i the clothes should be repaired and turned and j altered, and renovated ; if she knows how purchases can be made to the best advantage, and : understands the laying in of provisions, how I to make them go farthest and last longest; if I she appreciates the importance of system, order, tidiness, and the quiet management of children and servants, then she knows how to make a little heaven of home, how to keep I her husband from the club-house, the garaI bling-table, and the wine-cup. Such a family j will be trained to social respectability, to bus- j iuess success, and to efficiency and usefulness j in whatever position may be allotted to them, j It is safe to say that not one girl in ten in our large towns and cities enters into married life who has learned to bake a loaf o* b-ead, to purchase a roast, a painting, to sweep a carpet, or to cut and fit and make her own dress. How much the perfect knowledge of these things bears upon the thrift, the comfort and health of families may be conjectured, but not calculated by figures. It would be of immeasurable advantage to make a beginning I by attaching a kitchen to every girls' school | in the nation, and have lessons given daily in j the preparation of all the ordinary articles of i food and drink for the table, and how to purchase them in market to the best advantage, with the result of a large saving of money, an increase of comfort and higher health in every family in the land. "We think that boys also should be trained for household duties. Not perhaps in precisely the same way, or to the same extent as ? . ?* .1 .. 1- _ j : _ j gins, out sumcienuy to matte mem wiae uuvisers and helpers of their wives. No man who never undertook to nrepare three comfortable meals a day, or to do a family washing, or to'sweep and dust a house, or to mend and make clothing, has any adequate conception of the care and labor these household matters involve. Therefore, husbands are too often careless in providing help, exacting in their demands upon their wives, and, worst of all, under-estimate the value of her services. If boys were trained to house-work sufficiently to appreciate its value, no man would, ever say that he "supported his wife." If they had ever helped to "tend the baby," husbands would seldom neglect the mother of their children." o "Scat !"?Our old hornestad on Penn street, one door above Irwiu, was the home of many a happy cat. Among the rest was one, an old short-tailed, time-honored cat, about as thrifty a one as was overseen anywhere. The time I allude to was in the summer of 1862. She had a full batch of kittens. I should first say she was one of the best cats I ever saw. She would often undertake the destruction of rats nearly as large as herself. I have frequently seen her engaged in such a struggle. She always came off victorious, and the yard back of the house was the scene of many a | conflict, and was frequently strewn with the largest rats, stiffened in death, all the work of her own hand. As stated above, she had a full batch of kittens, one I think, for every teat. We noticed that all the kittens but one were sleek and fat, the very pink of perfection, while the poor exception looked very miserable. We could not imagine what was the cause of it. To see one of the little family look so wretched, while the others were so sleek and well provided for, caused no little talk in our family. At last the secret was unraveled. My sister, who is now living with me, came screaming at the top of her voice: "Come here and see a nasty big rat sucking the cat!" You may be sure I lost no time in running to the scene of action. There, lying right in the door of the hay-loft, was Mrs. Pussy and her family. E/ery kitten but one had a teat in ius mouth, and the poor deserted thing was not in its place. There, lying among the kittens, was a monster rat, with a teat in its mouth, sound asleep. The sight was too unnatural. I came right down the hay-loft steps, ran up into the house and got a pair of tongs. I then took hold of the rat with the tongs and drew it away from the teat, and while it was licking its lips, dashed I it to the ground, killing it. Now comes as singular a part of the story as the foregoing: Although she was one of the best of rat-catchers, and as lively as a cricket all the time, yet from the hour of killing her pet rat she never did any more good, never to^k nourishment of any kind, but pined away and died in just one week from that day. The story may seem incredible to some, but every word is true. There is yet besides myself, a living witness of it, although forty years have passed away.?Pittsburg Chronicle. A Cool Officer.?During the war a battery was sent to Helena, Arkansas, the members of which having no idea of war, and little of anything except the freedom (using a rather profane expression) to "raise hell and break things," proved so turbulent-and ungovernable that no commanding officer could be found who could exercise any control at all over them. Finally, the commanding general selected his chief of artillery?a stalwart and reliable German?to go and take charge of that battery, and straighten the j members thereof. On hearing of this arrange[ ment, the members of the battery made every preparation to clean out the new importation, and an arrangement to ride him on a rail out of their jurisdiction was effected. But the German was too sharp for therc. He went to a regiment of infantry and directed the ColoI nel to give him a detail of fifty of his best j men, fully armed, which was soon furnished. He then smilingly passed into the crowd of malcontents with his fierce, whiskered and j armed detail, and ordered every sinner of j them strapped to the guns, wheels, caisons, or j to any thing that happened to De aoout, so i that it could hold them perfectly secure, and j tipping his military hat, and bowing politely i to the fettered crowd of enraged but helpless , bummers, wishing Ihera pleasant dreams, he j passed into his tenFitad slept serenely. In the morning he got up leisurely, washed ' and dressed himself with scrupulous nicety, i and walking out among the hampered crowd, | placed his thumbs in the arm holes of his vest, j and exclaimed, with great suavity and the , most perfect good nature: "Goot morning, shentleraen! How you j pass de night, hey ?" It was too much. The men caved before the consumate coolness and audacity of their new commander, and it is said by those who were present on that occasion, that this demoralized battery did as good execution af terward as any in the service. Hard to Beat.?The Charleston Neivs says: "A young lady of Bamberg, South | Carolina, has cultivated twenty-two acres of i cotton during the past spring and summer, with no other assistance than one negro girl, whom she hired for the year for fifty-six dollars. The young lady did the hoeiug, while the girl did the plowing. The ground was ! manured with four tons of Wando fertilizer,; and, it is estimated, will yield twelve bales of i cotton, six of which have already been re- [ ceived by Messrs. Reeder & Davis, factors, of' this city. In addition to the cotton, tho young lady will make an abundance of corn, peas, and potatoes, and enough sugar and syrup to last her for three years. She is only nineteen years of age, and this is her first attempt to make a crop. She nevertheless affords an example which many young men, and middle-aged ones too, will do well to follow." The Empty Cradle.?The death of a little child is to the mother's heart like the dew on a plant, from which a bud has ju it perished. The plant lifts up its head in freshened greenness to the morning light; so t'.ie mother's soul gathers, from the da-k sorrow which she has passed, a fresh brightening of her heavenly hopes. As she bends over the empty cradle, and fancy brings her sweet infant before her, a ray of divine light is on the cherub face. It is her son still, but with the seal of immortality on his brow. She feels that heaven was the only atmosphere where ber precious flower could unfold without spot or blemish, and she would not recall the last. But the aniversary of his departure seems to bring his spiritual presence near her. She indulges in that tender grief which soothes, like an opiate in pain, all hard passages and cares in life. The world to her is no longer filled with human love and hope in the future, so glorious with heavenly love and joy ; she has treasures of happiness which the worldly, unchastened heart never conceived. The bright, fresh flowers with which she has decorated her room, the apartment where her infant died, are mementoes of her far brighter hopes now dawning on her day dream. She thinks of the glory of the new Jerusalem, where the little foot will never find a thorn among the flowers, to render the shoe necessary. Nor will a pillow be wanted for the dear head re posing on the breast of a kind Saviour, And she knows that her infant is there in that world of eternal bliss. The Music-Box Trade.?AGenevaletter says: "The extent to whi*h this business is carried on in Geneva is a matter of surprise to Americans, and the magnificence of some of the instruments turned out exceeds anything that most persons have any idea of. We were shown an instrument this morning that played thirty-six tunes with flute, bell, drum and Castanet accompaniment. The cost of it, complete, was seven thousand francs, or about fourteen hundred dollars, the purchaser to have the privilege of naming tw :lve airs to be arranged on two of the cylinders that were blank. The instruments range in price from five franks to seven thousand. The highpriced ones are in elegant rosewood cases, but most of them are surprisingly low when we consider the prices at which the smaller boxes are sold in the United States. There is a duty, however, of thirty per cent., which accounts in some measure for the cost. A box playing eight tunes, with the accompaniments of bells, castanets and drum can he had for two thousand and fifty francs, and with the drum accompaniment also for four hundred francs. The price rises with the size or tne cylinder and the finish of the cases. There are musical chairs which play when you sit down upon them, musical decanters which strike up a merry air, such as the "Flowing Bowl," when you pour anything out of them, musical suuff boxes, musical flower pots, and musical toys of all descriptions. The twelve hundred dollar instrument had a volume of sound sufficient for a church, and would occupy as much space in a parlor as an ordinary piano, though it might be taken for an old style sideboard. Secret ^Tarriaoes.?Every now and then the public is startled by the exposure of some domestic or social villainy based on a secret marriage. Some confiding young lady has been induced to marry her lover secretly, and to keep the marriage secret for months and perhaps for years. In a recent case the marriage had been kept a secret for nearly seven years. Of course a man who wishes to keep his marriage a secret is always actuated by selfish, and usually base motives. He is acting a part?playing a game; and his confiding wife is pretty sure, in the end, to find herself the victim of his treachery and baseness. A woman should never consent to be married secretly. Her marriage should be solemnized in the light of publicity, and not in the shadow of concealment. She should distrust a man who has any reason for shrouding in darkness the act which?in his estimation at least?should be the crowning glory of his life. The man who always has some plot on hand?who naturally takes to trickery and concealment, and is never ready to have his actions brought out into the clear light t?f day, is apt to be so constitutionally base that he seldom, even by accident, deviates into the path of honor and virtue. No woman who values her domestic happiness should ever listen to the suggestions of such a man in favor of a secret marriage. A City of Women.?In the central part of the capital city of Bankok, in Siam, reside about nine thousand women, among whom no man but the king may enter. The inhab itants of this inner city are the thousand women of the royal harem, and some eight thousand more, who are soldiers, artificers and slaves. This little world is ruled by women as magistrates, who administer the laws of the kingdom. There is no appeal from their decisions. If a disturbance arises, it is suppressed by a force of five hundred Amazons, trained from infancy to the use of sword and spear. Meanwhile the slave women carry on a variety of manufactures, or go outside the walls to till the fields. The women of higher birth are "sealed" to the king ; the slave women may marry, but their husbands dwell outside the walls. The children, if boys, are banished from the city of women at six years old; only the girls remain. All the oriental distinctions of rank are scrupulously observed within this strange realm, except that the magistrates are chosen for personal character and wisdom. Young America Wonders.?I wonder what makes papa tell such nice stories to visitors about his hiding his master's ratan when he went to school, and about his running away from the school-mistress when she was going to whip him, and then shut me up all day in a dark room, because I tried just once to be as smart as he has been ? Wonder what made papa say that wicked word, when Betsey upset the ink all over his paper, and then slapped my ears when I said the same thing when my kite-string broke? Wonder why mamma told Bridget, the other " 1 i x 1 I rp aay to say sne was not at nome wneu xuuimy Day's mother called, and then puts me to bed without my supper every time I tell a lie ? Dignity?Nothing lowers a man, if thereby he honors the Lord. It is not possible for any godly work to be beneath our dignity; rather ought we to know that the lowest grade of service bestows dignity upon the man who heartily performs it. Even the least and most obscure form of serving Christ is more high and lofty than we are worthy to undertake.?Spurgeon. ? ? 4 ?? t&" Men plant prayers and endeavors, and fo the next dav looking to see if they have orne graces. Now God does not send graces as he sends light and rain, but they are wrought in us through long days of discipline and growth.