Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, March 09, 1882, Image 1

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lewis m. grist, proprietor, j ^tt Jniitpfiiiitnt Jamiij ftetospaptr: Jfor % promotion of fjit political,. Siotial, ^gricnltaal anil Commercial |ntt?sts of Ijit 5ont|. terms--$2.50 a year, in advance. VOL. 28. YOEKYILLE, S. C., THURSDAY, MARCH 9, 1882. Ts~O. IP. ?cighial fuctrn. Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. WHAT SHOULD A MAIDEN BE? BY DR. KEID, M. A., IX. D., ETC. From I860 to 1864 Emeritus Professor in South Carolina, and now of London, England. DEDICATED TO THE YORKVILLE FEMALE COLLEGE. What should a maiden be ? Pore as the rill, Ere it has leftits first home in the hill; Thinking no evil, suspecting no guile, Cherishing naught that can harm or defile. What should a maiden be ? Honest and true, Giving to God and to neighbor their due; Modest and merciful, simple and neat, Clad in the white robe of innocence sweet. What should a maiden be ? She should be loath Lightly to give or receive loving troth ; But when her faith is once plighted, till breath Leave her, her love should be stronger than death. What should a maiden be ? Merry, whene'er Merriment comes with a natural air ; But let not mirth be an every-day guest? n..|niniui0 oi?s nrt o mairien the best. Like a fair lily, sequestered and meek, She should be sought for, not others should seek; But, when the wild winds of trouble arise, " She should be calm and courageous and wise. Whatshould her words be? Her words should be few, . Honest and genuine, tender and true; Words that o'erflow from a pure heart within, Guiltless of folly, untainted by sin. What shouid her dress be ? Not gaudy and vain, But unaffectedly pretty and plain ; She should remember these few simple words? "Fine feathers flourish on foolish young birds." Where should a maiden be ? Home is the place Which a fair maid is most fitted to grace; There should she turn, like a bird to the nest, There should a maiden be, blessingand blest. There should she dwell as the handmaid of God, Aud if He bid her "pass under the rod," Let her each murmur repining suppress, Knowing that He chasteneth that He may bless. But if earth's blessings each day He renew, Let hergive glory where glory is due; Deem every blessing a gift from above, Given and designed for& purpose of love. What will her future be? If she become Matron and mother, may God bless her lioi?e ! God to the matron all blessings will give. If as God's maiden the young maiden live. What will her future be? If she should die, Lightly the earth on her asho9 will lie ; Softly her body will sleep 'neath the sod, While her pure spirit is safe with her God. Jk ?rigiual Written for the Yorkville Enquirer. THE HOUSE ON THE HILL. BY HERBERT JOHNSON. CHAPTER XIV. Sophy had but just retired to her bedroom that night, when there was a knock at her door. She opened it, and saw the Captain. "My dear," he said, rather hurriedly, "excuse me for disturbing you ; but I knew you had just come up. May I see you for a little while ? There's something on my mind I would like to say to you." "Yes, sir, of course. "Won't you come in ? I hope there is nothing wrong," said Sophy, anxiously. "No, no ; nothing wrong. I think you had letter come into my room ; we'll not be overheard there," said the Captain, glancing toward a door which communicated with her mother's apartment. Greatly wondering, and still a little apprehensive, in spite of his assurance, Sophy immediately accompanied him, and they soon found themselves closeted alone. "Now, my dear," said the Captain, when they were seated?and she could perceive from his manner that he was considerably moved? "this thing that I want to speak about, has been on my mind a good while, and it's a matter that affects me in no small degree. It's a matter, my child, that concerns your welfare; and not only yours, but the welfare of others, which you have at heart." A suspicion of what he meant dawned instantly on her mind ; but she said nothing. "Perhaps," he went on, "you don't know that I am in the secret of the state of affairs; and perhaps, too, you will think that I have no right to intermeddle in a matter over which I can have no control. But, Sophy, I love you as dearly as if you were my own child. You believe that, don't you ?" She made an affirmative motion with her head. "And you'll forgive the old man if he says anything that isn't welcome to you. Now, my dear, Mr. Erskine has been talking to me tonight, and I feel very sorry for him?very sorry. I would gladly help him if I could." "Did he ask you to help him ?" inquired Sophy, whose cheeks were now crimson. "He did not. In fact, he would have thought it useless. I can see that he has given up all hope. He did say to me that if matters had to continue thus he would sell his place and go away from our neighborhood. 'Captain,' he said, 'I'm no coward, but in this one thing I am weaker than I thought. I cannot look upon her face day after day and be unmoved. I know I shall break down again in my resolution, and grieve her gentle heart as I did once before, and that isjustwhatl promised her not to do. Bather than break my promise, I must leave you all. 1 had hoped that Fate had arranged differently for me, and that my wanderings were over ; but I suppose I must take them up again. Her happiness and peace of mind are far dearer to me than my own.' As far as I can recollect, those were almost his exact words. It was certainly the sense of what he said." "Oh, Captain Russell!" she exclaimed, "I am verv unhannv. How can I do as he wishes me to V" ''My dear,'' said the Captain, tremulously, "you know how all my dearest hopes were centered on you and my poor boy ; how I looked forward to your marriage as the most joyful event of my life. You know how I watched you two growing up together; how you, as well as he, have always been the light and joy of my home. Desolate, indeed, has been that home, since he was taken from me ! Xext to him I have always loved you, and your happiness is now my dearest object. Sophy, you are too young to let this one grief blight your whole life. If any one alive ought to want you to keep Harry's memory sacred, it is me ; but I am not willing to see you carry a heavy heart to your grave. My dear child, why cau't you marry Mr. Krskine V He is a good man ; he loves you with his whole heart. I am sure he could make you happy." Sophy still wept; but she listened in silence. A sort of weary, hopeless feeling had taken possession of her. She felt too weak to resist the importunities which seemed to assail her on all sides. Every body?even Harry's own uncle, the one who had loved him most of every one in the world, except herself?was against her. "Another thing," the Captain went on, more hurriedly, "and it is in this, Sophy, that 0 ! I am a little afraid of vexiug you, but still I 1 must speak v hat is in my heart. Mr. Erskine ; has fortune. God forbid that I would have ! you marry him from mercenary motives ; but j with your mother depending upon you for supJ port, and you so unable to support her, do you j think it right to refuse the means of placing her, as well as yourself, out of the reach of poverty for the rest of your lives ?" "He would be the last person to want me to marry him for that reason," said Sophy. "Neither would I want you to, for that reason alone. But he is in every way worthy of your esteem. As his wife, you would certainly be, to say the least, happier than you are now. And it is certainly your duty to consider your mother ; to afford her all the assistance that you can. Mr. Erskine has already done much for you both--" "Yes, and I feel it so keenly?so much more keenly than any one can believe," cried Sophy, passionately. "It is that which makes me wretched; to think that we are indebted to ! him for so much, and cannot repay him." "But it ne<xl not make you wretched; and you can repay him amply by giving him your heart." "My heart! it would be a worthless gift. Ought I to marry him?good, noble, generous as he is?without love ? Could I bestow on liim so i>ooi% so dead a tiling as an empty heart ?" "My child, it cannot be empty. You esteem him; you can at least give him a true and warm regard. He will be content with this, trusting to the future to awaken a still warmer feeling within you." "It would be a useless hope." "So you say and believe now. But even admitting this?suppose he is willing and eager to take you just as you are?suppose that it would be his joy to have you always near him, to cherish and protect you, can you not grant him this boon, in return for his great love, his desire to make you happy V" "And forget all my past ?" "Your past, dear as it is, has been a brief one. The gieater part of your life is before you. For the sake of others, don't cling to your sorrow, and feject all chance of a better and brighter day." Sophy sat with her head bent upon her hands. Contrary motives were struggling at her heart, tearing it to pieces. Contending voices were whispering to her to do this and that, utterly bewildering her. After all, was she selfish ? Was she wrong to cherish a mere memory, if in so doing she was clouding the existence of everybody around her ? It was quite true that her marriage with Mr. Erskine would contribute in every sense to her mother's welfare. And she well knew that in this way alone could she repay him for all his unseltish kindness, his forbearance, his thoughfulness, which had far outweighed mere material benefits, numerous as these last had been. Would it be doing him an injustice to marry him, her feelings being as thoroughly known to him as they were ? If he was willing to take her as she was, why, then?perhaps? she ought to sacrifice herself to duty. Perhaps she would not live very long. She had ofteu fancied that she would die young, and -a-i-i 1.1 ? in tnat case nouuug wuuiu uiaiLci uiuvu, It would be u consolation to know that she had done what she could for the happiness of others. And then Harry's image came before her, and all the precious memories connected with it, and her heart cried out, "I cannot! oh, I cannot do it!" The Captain waited a good while ; then as she did not speak, he came to her where she sat, and laid his hands, as if in blessing, upon her bowed head. "My child, think this matter over in solitude. I have said all that I wish?all that I ought to say. If I have erred in saying it, pardon me. I meant it only for your good. But don't rashly or hastily decide. Think well, ere you condemn a good true heart to unhappiness and disappointment; ere you ruin the hopes of others, and spoil your own future. Come, you must not sit up any longer; but tell me before you go that you are not angry with me for my plain speaking." "I am not angry ; I could not be angry with you," said Sophy, gently taking one of his brown, wrinkled hands between her own, and kissing it. Her voice, though she spoke with sweetness, had a pathetic and dreary tone. Such trouble as hem seemed very hard to bear. When she had returned to ner own room auu found herself alone, she fell on her knees. "Makeme do right," she prayed ; "guide me, help me act for others, and put my selfishness aside." All the thoughts and arguments which had already assailed her seemed to return continually with new force to her mind. Her whole night was passed in this weary conflict, which gave her no peace. At last her mind was made up, and fearful lest any delay might weaken the decision which had cost her so much, she sat down and wrote this note to the Captain: "My Dkau, Kind Fiiiexd : I have been thinking, ever since 1 left you, over our conversation, and at last it seems to me that there is but one thing to do. If Mr. Erskine still wishes me to do as you say, knowing everything, I will no longer refuse. You can arrange it in any way that you like. I know that you will not compromise me. I would not hurt his feelings for the world. Yours, "So i'll y." This note she carried, at daybreak, to the Captain's door, and slipped it underneath, where he could not fail to see it; then return ed to rest her aching head upon her pillow, and try to snatch a little repose before again appearing in the presence of others. She greatly dreaded meeting Mr. Erskine. | When she went to breakfast, however, she I found that he was not there. Some one said he had gone out for an early walk, having taken some coffee before he went. The following day was the one which had been appointed for their return home, and she busied herself during this forenoon in partially packing her own and her mother's trunk ; not that there was any necessity for her doing this so soon, but because she felt the need of some occupation in order to keep her mind composed. She did not go down to lunch ; but in the afternoon, believing that Mr. Erskine was out, she went into the garden to get some slips, which the landlady had promised to let her carry home. She had just finished her task, and was about to return to the house, when she saw him approaching her from a distance. Her first impulse was to retreat; but | ! she reflected that this would be foolish, and ! would only delay the evil moment, which had j better lie got over at once. So she stood steadily looking at her slips, i andassorting them into little separate bundles, until he came close to her side. "Sophy." His voice was very low, and his manner not more eager than usual; but something in his tone made her know that lie had heard. "Sophy, Captain llussell has been speaking to me. 1 did not ask him to be my mediator ; but 1 find that he has done so unasked, lie bade me come to you?otherwise, believe me, I should not have importuned you again. Is it, indeed, true that the boon I have so long coveted in vain is really to be mine ?" lie took her passive hand. Iler heart beat violently; it was all she could do to keep from bursting into tears. "I fear I distress you," he went on, hurriedly. "I?I dreaded this. But don't, for my sake, make a sacrifice too great for your strength?one which you may afterwards repent?" His own voice failed him. The hand that j clasped here trembled like a leaf. It needed all the mail's resolution to sustain him in that supreme moment of doubt, of dread. His weakness gave her strength. "Mr. Erskine," she said, with sudden calmness, looking up and fully meeting his gaze, "Captain Russell told you quite right. I am willing to?to do what you wish." "Sophy, tell me, from your soul?is this compulsion ?" "It is not compulsion. Who is there to compel me V" "Well; I will ask no more questions." He breathed a great, heavy sigh, long-drawn from the depths of his heart, a sigh of intense, unspeakable relief, of gladness too profound for words. UI can only thank God for the inestimable blessing he has vouchsafed me, and ask His purest blessings on your head. My love ; my life !?" He checked himself abruptly, as if fearing to offend her by any open expressions of tenderness ; and drawing her hand through his arm, begged her to walk a little way with him into a more retired part of the garden-. By degrees he overcame his agitation sulliciently to talk to her in a quiet, gentle strain. He dwelt only on such points as he thought he could* speak of without distressing her ; said little of his own feelings, and, in what he did say, ! made it quite evident that he understood exactly the footing on which she had accepted him, and that while he would make it the aim of his life to merit her love, he would require from her nothing more than she was willing to accord. The conversation soothed and trauquilized her. She felt him to be in every way worthy of her truest regard, and this conviction, while it could not assure her happiness, gave her at least the certainty of a safe and honored position as his wife?a posi- : tion 111 which she could nna conxeuxmeux ami repose. , Mrs. May, when her daughter returned to ] the house, met her with a warmth that reveal- ] ed her knowledge of the new aspect of affairs. 1 She judged wisely in not saying too much on ( the subject. Indeed, Sophy felt that she could ( not have borne a prolonged discussion of it at ; that time. She had made the sacrifice, and i was willing to abide by her resolve ; but she 1 could not realize fully what was before her. ; She seemed to be acting in a dream. [to be continued.! ( gpsfdhtucims Reading. T ROMANCE 0FTHEWAR7 < The Attempt to Form a North-Westeru Confederacy. 0 Col. T. A. Burr, a well-know Confederate ] officer, prints in the Philadelphia Times an . account of the attempt to release the 20,000 : Confederate prisoners confined in Chicago, J Columbus and Sandusky in 1804, and to inau- j gurate a Northwestern Confederacy. Major- ; C. II. Cole, of the Fifth Tennessee Regiment, ( was a leading spirit in the plot. lie received his instructions in Richmond, and reported to ; the Hon. Jacob Thompson, then in Canada. Jacob assigned him to the command of the Department of the Ohio, with headquarters at ( Sandusky. At Ciimp Douglas, near Chicago, there were about 8,000 Confederate prisioners, at Camp Chase, near Columbus, Ohio, about 8,000 more, 1 and at Cam]) Morton, near Indianapolis, about 1 4,000.* On Johnson's Island, in Sandusky Bay, there were about 3,200 Confederate officers confined. The object was to simulta neously release all these prisoners and officer the men in the other three camps with the officers on Johnson's Island. With this force and the active aid of Northern sympa' ' * *1 ? A1. /> \TAi?r? tnizers It WHS tUOUgllt nine ?i Xiuiumcovuu Confederacy was not impossible. Major Tom Ilinds, now Judge at Bowling Green, Ky., 1 had the State of Illinois, with his headquar- ! ters at Chicago. Major Castleman had Indiana, with his headquarters at Centralia. At 1 all these places Northern allies were working in conjunction. 1 The time selected in making the assault 1 uj)on these camps was to be gauged byGen. Early's attack upon Washington, so as ' to make it impossible for any of the troops to be sent North to reinforce the limited number of Federal soldiers then in the Northwest. The Northwest was selected as the field of ope- ! rations because there was a great rebellion there against conscriptions, and the people were gen- ; erally tired of the war. It was at first intended to strike the blow 1 while the Democratic National Convention : was in session in Chicago. Four thousand Confederate soldiers and sympathizers were in . Chicago at that time ready for the work. Early's delay in striking Washington caused a postponement. Among the Northern allies Col. Burr places Brick Pomeroy. lie asserts' 1 on the authority of Major Cole that Jacob Thompson gave Pomeroy money to establish the La Crosse Democrat. On Major Cole's assigment to command at Sandusky he was instructed to capture the 1 United States man-of-war Michigan. She was flip milv jirined vessel on the lakes, and with her in their power the Confederates felt assured of success. Cole went to Erie, where 1 the Michigan was lying before she went up as guardship to the prisoners 011 Johnson's Island. Through friends he made the acquaintance of the officers, entertained them handsomely and was invited to the ship, so that when it came to Sandusky he was always a welcome guest, lie established himself in Sandusky as an oil speculator, organized the Mount Ilope Oil Company, and located a well near Titusville, Pa. Judge Fillmore of Buffalo, was elected president, and Cole was elected secretary. This gave him a business standing, and his position as secretary and practical business manager of the company readily accounted for the travel it was necessary for him to do in furtherance of his military duty. It also explained the abundance of money he had and his willingness to spend it. He received from Mr. Thompson S<)0,000 in gold, a portion of which was deposited in the bank at Sandusky to his credit. There was ' <- 1 * Dlu'l.wl/iliilii.l I UISO till tlCUUUllb ill x iiiitiu^Apincv Hivu Drexel & Co., in tlie name of John Bell. He also had an account with Belmont in New York. The Confederacy had plenty of means in its secret service fund. Cole says that there was something like $80,000,000 altogether to the credit of the Confederate commissioner and his colleague. Most of it was, he believes, deposited in the bank at Toronto. He turned his attrition to cultivating the acquaintance of the officers of the steamer Michiijdit, and till military ollieers stationed at Sandusky, or who came there, as a prequisite to success in releasing the Confederate prisoners. He wined and dined the officers continually, and was on excellent footing with them. lie soon found it necessary to have men in his employ on board the MU-hiquii and also on Johnson's Island. As the United States Government wanted both seamen and soldiers, two Confederates were enlisted as seamen and | sent aboard the Micltiyun. Ten more were | enlisted as soldiers, and went on duty as memliers of the regiment doing duty on Johnson's Island. Besides Cole's social relations with the ollieers, he was in a position to be fully posted as to what was going 011, both 011 the vessel and 011 the island. The men enlisted as Federal soldiers were of infinite value in communicating with the Confederate officers and in getting arms to them. Cole tells the following incident: Not long before our plans were completed Mr. Thompson at one of our conferences in Canada, said he should like to visit and look over the steamer Michigan before we attacked her, and also personally inspect the details of my plans upon the ground. "If you think it safe, Mr. Thompson, I should be exceedingly glad to have you do so," I said. lie did not reply, and'we parted without my knowing what his intentions were. A few days after, while sitting in my room at the West House, Sandusky, the servant came up and said: "Your aunt is in the parlor, and would like to see you." mi* I told Miss Annie Davis to go down and invite her up. Of course, I knew it was not my aunt, but I was never taken by surprise at anything, and was always on my guard. I supposed possibly it was a female courier with orders or information. Miss Davis went down to the parlor, and in a moment returned with an elderlylady, nicely dressed in a style that well became her age. When the veil was removed there stood Jake Thompson. I was wholly taken aback, as the disguise was perfect and the assumption of the character easy and graceful. I sent word to the Michigan that I had a lady relative who had stopped over a train to visit what she had never seen, a man' ' " ' T VI Un,. oi-war, una mac i snuuiu ime tu unn^ nu aboard. They returned a cordial invitation, and that afternoon Mr. Thompson and I went out to the ship. Mr. Thompson went all over, and in a squeaky voice put such questions about her construction and arrangement as a rural female of well-advanced years and small opportunities for gleaning information would be likely to propound. No one suspected him, and the officers were exceedingly polite to the one they afterwards spoke of as "my country aunt." After Thompson's visit to the Michigan Cole spent three weeks in Philadelphia recruiting. lie established his headquarters at Twelfth and Chestnut streets, in the Girard building or old Cadwallader House. He also had another rendezvous on Fifth street between Chestnut and Walnut, where a man was ostensably recruiting an artillery company for the United States service. It was here that most of the men for the capture of the Michigan were hired. They were paid ?40 a month and 'expenses. The money was drawn from Drexel's Bank to meet the current expenses of these agencies and to pay the men. The plan fully matured, it was decided to make the attack on Monday, September 19, L8<)4. The intention was the moment the Michigan was captured and the Confederate officers released, to cut all the telegraph wires leading out of Sandusky, seize a railroad-train, run dawn to Columbus, assist in releasing the prisoners, then run back to Sandusky and establish the temporary headquarters of the Confederate Department of the Northwest. Ceii. Trimble, of Maryland, who was the ranking Confederate officer confined 011 Johnson's Island, was to be made Commander-inChief, and Cole had in his pocket a commission from the Confederate Government appointing him to that position the moment he was released. Cole was supplied with other commissions in blank, all properly signed and attested, to give an omer men wao eunaiou m the Confederate army for this service. This was done to make them regular Confederate 3oldiers, so that their services would be legitimate acts of warfare as long as they obeyed orders. Major Hinds, in command at Chicago, and Major Castleman, in command at Centralia, were to attack Camp Douglas and Camp Morton simultaneously with Cole's attack upon Johnson's Island. Major Hinds was also charged with the duty of capturing one of the iron steamers plying between Grand Haven, Mich., and Milwaukie, Wis. Through some misunderstanding none of the others made the attack, although Cole telegraphed before leaving Detroit, 011 the morning of the 19th, to Charley Walsh, a citizen of Chicago, who was Major Hinds' assistant, and isnow street commissioner of that city, as follows : Detroit, Sept. 19, 18G4. Close out all the stock in the Mount Hope Oil Company before 3 o'clock to-day. Be prompt. C. H. Cole. This meant that the attack would be made 011 the Michigan at 5 o'clock that evening. Cole left Sandusky for Detroit on Saturday, with all arrangements perfected. He had previously determined to capture the Philo Parsons, a vessel plying in the lake trade for service in translating our troops. The plan was to go aboard of hermit Detroit and the men who were to assist in her capture were to get 011 at the various points at which she touched 011 the Canadian shore. Cole went on board the Parsons at 4 P.-M., of the 18th, and spent most of his time with Capt. Atwood, her commander. He had made his acquaintance some time before, and frequently came over on his vessel. She left her wharf 011 the morning of the 19th, and touched at her various stopping places on the Canada side of the Detroit River. At Windsor and Maiden Cole's men got on board. lie was in the pilot-house with Capt. Atwood when the boat touched at both places, so that lie could note the men as they came on board, and be where they could see him. At Maiden, Atwood, observing the unusual number of seedylooking men getting aboard, said : "IIow many skedaddlers are coming on this morning ? These fellows are all well off. They ran out of the United States to escape the draft, and are now returning. They look hard, but all of them have means, and are men of position." "Yes, poor fellows," Cole replied, "they have had a hard time." J. Yates Beale, Cole's second officer, was in readiness for the work. When they left Maiden Cole gave a signal to assign the men to their position. lie did so. A fine engineer, well armed, was placed near the engine, and one of the men well equipped for the work appointed to every important place on the boat. Cole himself preferred to deal with the captain. When Beale had everything in readiness Cole gave the signal and clapped his revolver to Capt. Atwood's head, and said : "Captain, you are my prisoner." "What's tile matter, Cole ?" he asked, in great astonishment. "You are my prisoner. I take possession of this ship in the name of the Confederate States Government. Go below.'' The arrest of the Captain was followed by the capture of the men by other soldiers. They were sent below and the hatches put down. The passengers were assured that they should not be molested. The stars and bars were run up, with the announcement: "This flag is a guarantee of protection to women and children." This assurance was sacredly kept, although it cost some effort. The regular Confederate soldiers were perfect gentlemen, but some of those hired from Philadelphia, Yew York, and other cities were not. It was necessary to put some of them overboard to make good the promise given when the Confederate flag was hoisted. About 12.30 the Parsons caught the Island Queen unloading freight at Put-iu-Bay Island. She carried a large number of passengers, among them 300 unarmed soldiers going to Cleveland to get mustered out. The Parson ran alongside of her, made fast, and captured her. The two steamers then went to Fighting Island, where the passengers were put ashore. There were no possible means of escape, and therefore no danger that they would give warning. The steamers then ran toward the Michifjun, which lay in sight. Cole left the Parsons in a small boat, and ' ? ^1- If.. I.J TTio .xl.ir* rowed directly to uic imviuyini. ?no picm was to capture the ship by strategy. Before going to Detroit he had arranged to give the oilicers an entertainment on board that eveuing at 5 o'clock, and had sent the wine and other requisites to the vessel before he left Sandusky. Therefore his coming on board that day excited no suspicion. The men selected to make the capture were to come out from the shore in small boats, ostensibly fishing, and surround the Michigan. When Cole went aboard they were to draw nearer to the ship. At a given signal from him they were to board her, put down the hatches, and the vessel would be won without firing a gun. Everything worked like a charm. On the verge of success Cole delayed giving the signal a moment too long. He was himself captured, instead of capturing the Michigan. lie was in the wardroom drinking wine with the officers, and was just making an excuse to go on deck to give the signal when an officer from Johnson's Island approached him, saying : "Capt. Cole, you .are my prisoner." "Captain of what ?" he asked, with a laugh, "Certainly no man will accuse me of being a soldier." "No," replied the officer, "but here is a telegram saying you are a Confederate spy, and are in a conspiracy to capture .Tohuson's Island. It orders your arrest. We must at least take you into custody." "Oh, that's all right," Cole answered, although he felt that it was all up with him. "Sergeant, search him !" ordered the officer. The sergeant began his work, and almost the first thing he found was a commission from the Confederate Government. That was enough. Cole was put under arrest and closely guarded. A Col. Johnson, of Kentucky, had betrayed him. He dropped a paper containing the information of his purposes upon the wharf just as they were leaving Maiden on the morning of the 19tlr of September. It was picked up and the facts communicated to the provost marshal at Detroit. He telegraphed to the officers of the steamer Michigan, but the dispatch was by accident delivered to the commanding officer on Johnson's Island. It was merely by chance that the message reached the boat in time to save her from capture and to upset Cole's plans. On his arrest Cole was asked who were his accomplices. There they were' all around the vessel and still unknown. Quick sis a Jaim'ooJ a nlon fn QOVa fltOTlrt TT P 11(1311 uc UCVloeii a piau i/u uuw ?UvU. ? named twelve of the most prominent citizens of Sandusky as his co-conspirators, knowingthat they would be at once arrested. He felt assured that his female accomplice in the city, who was watching the bay for the signal of success, would be warned of his capture, and alarm the men in the boats. He was not mistaken. The first man arrested was Mr. West, who kept the hotel where he stopped. Annie Davis knew he luid failed the moment it occurred. Quickly slipping from the hotel, she took a small boat, rowed and gave the alarm to the men in the fishing boats, and they to the Parson and Queen. Beale scuttled the Queen and sunk her in sight of the Michigan, and running the rarsons over to the Canada shore, sunk her, too. Every man but Cole escapkl. Annie Davis also got away, but she was captured a day or two after, when she came back to bring notice from the Confeder ate Government that they would hold two officers as a ransom for Cole, and would execute them if he was dealt with in any other ( way than as a Confederate soldier engaged in , legitimate warfare. Johnson cut his throat at the barracks in ] Cincinnati while being held as a witness for the Federal Government against Cole. , After Cole's arrest he was confined on the ( Michigan until after Gens. Dix, Heintzelman . and Hitchcock visited the* vessel to make an \ investigation. They came on board on a bright September day. It was thought that i the Knights of the Golden Circle were in the ] plot, and they were in search of evidence. ( They asked for Cole. 1 Cole says that he was quietly smoking a ci- j gar when the officer came below to escort him 1 on deck. In going forward he knew that he had ] to pass directly over the magazine. He pull- ] ed vigorously at his cigar to get it well light- ; ed, then taking it from his mouth he held it ] by his side, and in passing dropped it into the . 1,111 * ' * ?fl\n monfO'TlnO 1 lime ilir-liOlH WIIICU upeueu mw mic uinjjiuiuv, I He, therefore, reached the deck, expecting that every moment the powder would explode and that "the ship and all 011 board would be < scattered to the four winds. The fire in the < cigar, however, died away without reaching the powder. The three Generals heard his ] story, and Heintzelman, 011 learning of the ^ trick played on the twelve citizens of Sandus- ( ky, thundered out, "Capt. Ciirter, why in thunder didn't you hang that inan to the , yard-arm ?" I The records of the War Department show j that he was tried in Cincinnati by military j court, of which Gen. Heintzelman was presi- , dent, and convicted of the charge of piracy and J of being a spy. He was sentenced to be hung 011 the 16th of February, 1865, on Johnson's Island, the point against which he had directed his best efforts as a Confederate officer, j He made two desperate attempts to escai>e while confined on Johnson's Island, and it was J finally decided to remove him to Fort LaFay- j ette. Legal proceedings had delayed his execution, and a petition gotten up by the ladies ] of northern Ohio, among whom were the niece j of ex-Secretary Columbus Delano, and the daughter of Gen. M. D. Leggett, since com- , missioner of patents, softened the public feel- \ ing. The two ladies named were passengers , on the Island Queen, when Cole captured her, 1 and were not only protected but shown perfect j courtesy by him and his officers. These inllu- 1 ences combined, with the appeal of powerful ] friends of tl?e officers held in Richmond as | hostages for him, secured a commutation of , his sentence to imprisonment for life at the Dry Tortugas. Before this, however, Cole was removed to : Fort LaFayette. John Y. Beale endeavored ] to rescue liim while on the way to the fort. They tried to wreck the train which he had J taken 011 the Lake Shore Road, but they wreck- } ed the wrong train. Beale was captured, tried, j sentenced to be hanged, and suffered the death ] penalty on Governor's Island ; while, as the se- . quel shows, his friend, first sentenced to death, and for whom he gave his life, escaped all punishment. It is claimed by those who profess to know, ] that the execution of Beale caused the assassi- 1 nation of Abraham Lincoln. J. Y. Beale was 1 from Jefferson county, West Virginia, but a 1 short distance above Washington, where many 1 of his relatives now live. He was an intimate 1 friend of John Wilkes Booth. When Beale j was sentenced to death, Booth made a power- ' ful attempt to save his life. He enlisted all 1 the eminent men he possibly could to aid him I in his efforts, but there seemed no hope of sue- 1 cess. As a bust resort, he begged his influen- i tial friends to secure him an audience with j President Lincoln. Quite a number of them 1 consented to do so, among whom was the late 1 Colonel John W. Forney. The audience was i granted a short time before Beale was to be j hung, and Booth made a plea for his life which 1 moved Mr. Lincoln to tears. The good-heart- 1 ed President would, doubtless have commuted 1 Beale's sentence after the occurrence of that ] night, but Secretary Stanton said: "There j lias been too much leniency in dealing with ! these fellows. Cole's sentence has been com- . muted. The law ought to take its course 011 1 Beale's case." It did, and Beale was hung. ] Booth's failure to save the life of his friend is 1 said to have so preyed upon his mind that it 1 gradually worked him up to the point of assas- 1 sinating the President. 1 Cole remained in prison at Fort LaFayette, 1 and after making one ineffectual attempt to * escajie, was, 011 the 10th day of February, 1805, ' brought out of prison 011 a writ of habeas cor- j pus, issued by the District Courtof New York, j at the instance of Jake Thompson and other < Confederate leaders. lie escaped to Canada ] and thence to Mexico, where he led a life of ] i3 11.. adventure under Maxmnnan. ne was mmiiy j pardoned by the President, and returned to the United States with several prominent Confederates who were in Mexico for a time after the ] war, waiting Executive clemency. lie is now , a citizen of Texas, largely interested in the de- < velopment of the railroad system in that State, j The Widow's Touched-it Piiotookaph. i A story is related for a fact of a Montreal : widow, which in its details is quite as strange ; as any novelist's fantasy. An English gentle- 1 man in some manner became acquainted by < letter with a family of ladies?sisters?resi- 1 dent in Montreal. Being a gentleman who j had retired from his profession, the pos- j sessor of an ample income, he had little to do j save enjoy life, and his corresjiondence went I on for some time with the ladies. At length i he asked for photographs of the sisters. One ! of the latter, an able correspondent, was a ] widow over forty. She did not like the pros- ; l>ect of holding the mirror up to nature and i revealing her real features on a photograph i i card?the more esjiecially as there was a chance < of getting four thousand pounds a year and ] an elderly husband. The photographer's art 1 was employed, and the widow of forty-five i was transformed into a widow of twenty. 1 Time passed, and doubtless to the surprise of i the other sisters, the widow w&s chosen by 1 letter. She was asked to hasten to England j aud be married. This she did. Upon her arrival, however, the relatives of the gentleman refused to recognize in her the features of the picture. The gentleman had fallen ill, and the widow blamed tkat news for her altered features. Still the relatives and the gentleman were obdurate. In a few days he died. The widow now threatened proceedings, and the relatives, believing that she had a claim, offered to settle with her for a thousand pounds. This was agreed to, and the widow came back richer by that amount than when she started. But now she believes she has a claim, and despite the wry faces and objections of many relatives, she insists on pushing her claim. A lawyer will, it is said, leave for England to push the matter. CHARACTER AND CREDIT. "VVe often hear young men who have small means, dolefully contrasting their lot with that of rich men's sons. Yet the longer we live, the more we are convinced that the old merchant was right, who said to us when we began life, "Industry, my lad, is better than ingots of gold, and character more valuable than credit." We could furnish, if need were, from our own experience, a score of illustrations to prove the truth of his remark. In all branches of business, in all avocations, character, in the long run, is the best capital. Says Poor Richard : The sound of your hammer at five in the morning, or nine at night, 1.?.3 l?im flocvuiv mnnfho Ut?<iJLll Uy (% UlCUlVUljlUaxvco iiuii vauj oiawvuvuw longer ; but if he sees you at a billiard table, or hears your voice at a tavern when you should be at work, he seuds for his money the next day. "What is true of the young mechanic is true also of the young merchant, or the young lawyer. Old and sagacious firms will not long continue to give credit for thousands of dollars when they see the purchaser, if a young man, driving fast horses or hanging around drinking saloons. Clients will not entrust their cases to those advocates, however, brilliant, who frequent the card table, the wine party or the race course. It is better in beginning life, to secure a reputation for industry and probity, than to own houses and lands, if with them you have no chamcter. A facility of obtaining credit at the outset is often an injury instead of a benefit. It has almost passed into a proverb, in consequence, that the sons of rich men never make good business men. To succeed in life we must learn the value of money. But a superfluity of means at the outset is nearly a certain method of rendering us insensible to its value. No man ever grew rich who had not learned and practiced the adage, "if you take care of the pennies the dollars will take care of themselves." Knowledge of men, self-discipline, a thprough mastery of our pursuit, and other qualifications, which all persons of experience look for, are necessary to give the world security that a young man is of the right metal. Capital may be lost, but character never. Credit once gone, the man without cliaracter falls. But he who has earned a reputation for capacity, integrity and economy, even if he loses his capital, retains his character, re tains his credit, and rises triumphant over bankruptcy itself. A man with character can never be ruined. It is the first thing that a young man should seek to secure ; and it may be had by every one who desires it in earnest. A poor boy with character is more fortunate by far than a rich man's sons without it. The King and the Miller.?Near Sans Souci, the favorite residence of Frederick the brreat, there was a mill which much interfered with the view from the palace. One day the king sent to inquire what the owner would take for the mill; and the unexpected answer came back that the owner would not sell it for any money. The king, much incensed, gave orders that the mill should be pulled down. The miller made no resistance, but folding his aims, quietly remarked, "The king may do this, but there are laws in Prussia." And he took legal proceedings, theresuit of which was that the king had to rebuild the mill and pay a good sum of money beside in compensation. Although his majesty was much chagrined at this end of the matter, he put the best face he could upon it, and'turning to his courtiers he remarked, "I am glad to see that there are just laws and upright judges in mykingdom." A sequel to this incident occurred about forty years ago. A descendent of the miller of whom we have just been speaking had come into possession of the mill. After having struggled for several years against ever increasing poverty, and being at length quite unable to keep up with his business, he wrote to the king of Prussia, reminding him of the Incident we have just related, and stating that, if his majesty felt so disposed, he should be very thankful in his present difficulty to jell the mill. The king wrote the following reply with his own hand: uir" 4 T> VurniTim-D ?T nannnf. allow ilLI i/AAIV a w .. you to sell the mill. It must always be in your possession as long as one member of your family exists, for it belongs to the history of Prussia. I regret however to hear that you ire in such stringent circumstances, and therefore send you herewith six thousand dollars, in the hope that it may be of some service in restoring your fortunes. Consider me your iffectionate neighbor, Frederick William." ? The Lion's Pet.?The late Henry Moorliouse was fond of relating an incident that beautifully illustrates a precious truth. When tie was a boy there came to his native city <1 jircus with its attending menagerie. In the motley crowd which gathers about such exhibitions, there was a man whose little dog had iust been beaten in a fight with another dog. The man, in a fit of senseless rage, seized the bleeding and sufferiugbrute, and hurrying into the circus tent, roughly thrust him through the bars of the lion's cage, expecting of course, to see him devoured in a moment. The dog also seemed to know his danger, and crouched upon the lloor in manifest terror. The lion fixed his gaze upon him, but did not stir; and at last the dog, gathering hope, crawled slowly toward the monarch of the forest, and looked up into his face as if with mute supplication for mercy. To^he surprise of the spectators, the king of beasts, who could have crushed tiim with a single stroke, gently drew the helpless creature to his side, and then raised his lordly neck above him like a wall of protection. Meanwhile, the owner of the dog had recovered from his silly anger, and demanded his property. "You put him in; go to the cage and get him," was the quiet reply of the keeper. The man drew near and called the dog, but there was no response, for the once obe1 A oc lio llil/l fAnnU M hotfpr I1IC11L SCI VUlll rtUlCU no IX lie 1KVU ivuuu (? wvvvv* master, and was satisfied with the change. The old master called again and again, and whistled and coaxed in vain, and at length began to scold and threaten ; but the ominous growl of the lion, and the Hash of his darning eyes, sent back the human brute in fright and liaste, amid the laughter of all who witnessed his discomfiture; and the two friends were left in peace and mutual love. II031E.?If you have boys and girls in the liouse, impress upon them the beauty and utility of order. "A place for everything and everything in its place" should lie the chosen motto of every household. Ornament the walls with the prettiest pictures you can.afford. Ohromos will do very well if you cannot have steel engravings or paintings, provided they ire artistic in design and coloring. Baskets, rases, family and other pictures tastefully irranged act as a gentle sedative on the disturbed mind, and give a feeling of kindness md sympathy 'which naked walls can never give. Of course the windows should be tastefully and carefully curtained, and the centre table, with its hanging lamp or chandalier, iliould add cheerfulness to the apartment. Books and newspapers in variety should be present. Amusements are absolutely necessary, and among those of the graver sort ire reading aloud by one of the family, and followed by an examination, instruction or liscussion, in which all sliould be invited to participate. But boys and girls do not like to be confined to prosaic amusements, and will not be, though parents command them to refrain. Hence it behooves parents rather to sncourage certain amusements at home than forbid them, because when forbidden the same Amusements will be indulged in in a private way, and the bad phases of such diversions axe much more likely to be adopted. Encourage social gatherings and a world wide sympathy for human kind wherever found. It pays to make home pleasant and attractive. Read This, Boys.?A gentleman advertised for a boy to assist him in his office, and nearly fifty applicants presented themselves to him. Out of the whole number he in a short time selected one and dismissed the rest. "I should like to know," said a friend, "on what ground you selected that boy, who had not a single recommendation ?" "You are mitsakeu," said the gentleman; i "he had a great many. He wiped his feet when he came in, and closed the door after him, showing that he was careful. He gave up his seat instantly to that lame old man, showing that he was kind and thoughtful. He took off his cap when he came in? and answered my questions promptly, showing that ue was polite ana genuemamy. ac piu&cu uy the book which I had purposely laid upon the floor, and replaced it upon the table, while all the rest stepped over it or shoved it aside; and he waited quietly for his turn, instead of pushin ; and crowding, showing that he washonorat e and orderly. When I talked with him I not ced that his clothes were carefully brushed, l is hair in nice order, and when he wrote his n ime I noticed that his fingernails were clean, instead of lieing tipped with jet, like that handsome little fellow in the blue jacket. Don't you call those things letters of recommendation V I do; and I would give more for what I can tell about a boy by using my eyes ten minutes than all the letters he can bring me." ? # Color Blindness.?There are three kinds of color blindness. There are the red blind, the green blind and violet blind. A very large proportion of those afllicted are red blind, some are green blind and very few are violet blind. ^ Some are blind as to two of the base colors, generally red and green. There are only a few authentic cases of total color blindness. To such everything in nature appears black or white or light or dark gray in various degrees. To a red blind, red will appear yellow, green, brown or black, according to the shade of red used and the degree of the blindness. A bright red will appear dark-green and an equally bright green can be distinguished from it only by being of a lighter shade. To the color blind every phnnorA in intensity of light. from twilight, fog or from changed physical condition, as by fatigue or excitement, represents a change in color or shades of color. Santonine, a medicine not very frequently used, temporarily makes everything appear yellow, while alchohol and tobacco used to excess permanently impair the chromatic sense. To the green blind, whose only two concepts of base colors are red and violet, green being composed of almost equal parts of those colors, appears gray; reds appear brighter than normal, orange and yellow as more or less luminous red, blue as an intense violet. " Value of Civility.?Politeness is good and always results well. A polite and suave deportment constitutes one of the truest symbols of good breeding. There is nothing which costs less effort, and nothing which yields a better return in the way of good feeling and genuine pleasure than kindly speech and affable demeanor. A graceful, polite address may be as easily cultivated as the reverse, and may be set down as a valuable accomplishment. It is much too frequently the case that little or no deference is paid to the feelings and tastes of others, sometimes unintentionally it may be, but the result is the same, and might always be forstalled by an ordinary observance of the simple and fundamental principles that underlie self possession and true gentility. The advice of an ancient sage, (Lockmau to his son we believe), "to regard a superior as a father, an equal as a brother, an inferior as a son," is a gem of wisdom, and should be known and acted upon throughout the gradations and ramifications of society. This, with a studious observance of the Golden Rule, or Royal Law, "to do unto others as you would have them do unto you," would leave no room for chaos and disorder, but would trantform the world into a veritable paradise btlow. Mexico.?Mexico does not progress very rapidly. There are many reasons for this, but since the development of railroads in that country, we are beginning to find out something. An American who quite lately came from Mexico, states that the Mexicans have few manufactures and no modern machinery ; that he has seen a thousand men and boys at work in a field harvesting with sickles ; that heretofore there have been very few companies and firms in Mexico, as they have had a great distrust of railway or any other corporations; that on account of this distrust, money accumulated is hoarded and rendered useless to its owners and to the communities in which they reside ; that he -knows of one family that has two hundred and fifty thousand dollars stowed away in barrels; that there is only one lxink in Mexico, which is owned by Englishmen ; and that the only thing approaching in character to a bank authorized or established by the government is a large pawn shop, which makes advances on various articles. These brief statements indicate at once tne directions m which progress is the most essential, and the < deficiencies which, to a great extent, will probably be remedied by the enterprises in which a number of pur countrymeu are interested. ? Fashion in Colors.?The new colors are copied from foliage and fiowers, and take their names accordingly ; for instance, a new dark green is called elder green, another shade is sycamore, and the olive greens are called lichen green ; a purple-red like scabieuse is marked petunia, and a similar shade is orchis ; the azealea red and pale eglantine (wild-rose) pink have-already been noted ; the Turc and Sicily reds are brighter shades than the dull garnet so long worn, and are similar to carnation red. Sunflower yellow is shown in ribbons and crapes, while the paler yellow tints are maize, like the corn and straw colors worn before dull ecru shades were popular. Cinnamon brown with red predominating and the yellow leaf browns are shown, with also the dark reddish seal brown. There are three shades of beige ranging from ecru to brown, and there is pure white that has no yellow tinges, as well as the cream white that is almost as dark as Isabel yellow. Suez blue is a very pale shade, hussar blue is dark, and Russian blues have the gray shades that have been fashionable during the winter. Argent, or silver gray, is again largely imported. +. ? A Compromise.?An English justice sentenced a couple to matrimony under circumstances which seem legally just, although legally curious. A young man and young woman were contesting possession of a piece of property, the one claiming it under an old lease the other under an old will. "It strikes me," said the justice, "that there is a pleasant and easy way to terminate the old law-suit. The plaintiff appears to be a respectable young man, and this a very nice young woman. They can both get "married and live happily on the farm. If they go on with law proceedings it will be frittered away between lawyers who, I am sure, are not ungallant enough to wish the marriage not to come off." The lady blushed, and the young man stammered that they "liked each other a bit," so a verdict was entered for the plaintiff 011 condition of his promise to marry the defendant within three months, a stay of execution being put to the verdict till the ceremony should be completed. The Origin of tile Sioux.?The Sioux, if Indian tradition is to be believed, are a newpeople. The tradition is that a party of wild young men of different tribes banded themselves together to make a new tribe. This was in the Blackfeet country, near the head of the South Saskatchawan river, away to the northwest of Fort Benton. These Romans of the north marched on, conquering and absorbing the tribes they subdued, marrying such wives as pleased them. Their course was to the south and east and was not interrupted uptil the whites came in from the east.