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[Our readers will recognize the following excellent lines as the production ?of a gifted lady of this city. They were published in one of the Columbia papers in IBO?. We reproduce them by request:] Shadows on til? Venee. BY MKS. M. W. STaATTON. 1 cannot write as others do On high and noble themes. And yet I have my fancies, too - My own peculiar dreams; I can't instruct as others do. Perchance of Bounder senne, But I can tell yon something new Of shadows on the fence. There is a strip across the way Of fenciag, dark and old. And every bright and sunny day Its value doth unfold. I Bit within my portico, And with a look intense, 1 watch the shadows as they go Along that ancient fence. Kow, Ibero's a lady gliding by, Most fashionably drest; She holds her head up very high - A feather does the rest; She looks just like a grenadier, With plumed chapeau immense*. Nor ever dreams how very queer She looks upon the fence. Now, there's a dandy passinr by. With rattan quite genteel; But if around he'd cast an eye, How "taken down" he'd feel: A monkey flourishing a stan*. With gait of high pretense 'Twould make a very stoic laugh, His shadow on the fence. And now an cldermauic form Ie waddling proudly by; His look portends a coming storm, There's sterness in his eye; I think he holds some office here. Of trust and pow'r immense But how gigantically queer He looks upon the fence. And now a student saunters by. He's very handsome, too Mustachiod lip and splendid eye. Most beautifully blue; He looks like one by nature blest With more than common sonso Yet looks he stranger than the rest On that sarcastic fence. ' And now a lawyer strides along, As tho' the world were his - The ugliest shadow could not wrong His dreadful ugly phiz. I think the railroad agent knows Enough to make pretense. By which across the street he goes. And shuns that mocking fence. Men say that we ha?? little wit, Yet "dread a woman's tongue;" They say (but we don't care a bit ) "Tis in the middle hung. And thus the envious always do Find purest innocence And loveliest forms distorted, too, Like shadows on the fence. [Original. A BIDE WITH A MANIAC J BY ANNABEL LEE. In the summer of 18- I was pass? ing a few months at the summer re? sidence of my friend, Mrs. R-, near the delightful inland village of G-. All travelers pronounced it a charm? ing spot. And in truth, the world over, you could not find a pleasanter resort for sultry weather. It ia, more? over, in sight of the grand old moun? tains, and the atmosphere must be pure, for the mountain breeze comes to you fresh and cool from the Blue "Ridge. Besides these advantages, one there enjoys the privilege of as? sociating with refined aud cultivated people. Dear old village ! my pen lingers about your hallowed name with a lingering, loving touch, for I look back upon my sojourn amid your pleasant scenes as one of the* | brightest spots in life. * How agreea? bly did the time pass, filled up as it was with booka, music, gay company, long walks, stretching far over the I green fields, and glorious horse-back i rides and carriage drives mound tho ! village ! What more could the heart ] desire ? I was light-hearted and j happy, neither looking with regret to the past, nor with impatience to the I future. This must be, I think, the acme of human happiness on earth. The summer waued, "the melan? choly days" were upon us, and my visit was rapidly approaching its con? clusion, when I received a letter from an intimate friend residing in a re? mote section of country, reminding me of a long promised visit to her? self, and imploring me to postpone it no longer. I decided to be governed by her wishes, and took immediate steps to arrange my plans according? ly. In the first place, it was necessa- j ry to take the precautionary measure I of giving my friend timely notice concerning the day on which I might be expected to arrive at the station. "Do not neglect this," she wrote, "as we live in a very secluded, out-of-the way place, and A-, the nearest station, is twenty-three miles dis? tant." To make assurance doubly sure, I wrote a fortnight ahead, in order that my letter might reach its _ destination in time for a reply, to " complete the arrangement. This v 'was a matter which increased in im? portance as the time for my depart? ure drew near, and I became con? vinced it would be necessary for me to travel without un escort. . This was not by any means an agreeable prospect under any circum? stances; for I have always felt an un conquerable distaste to traveling alone, and when I reflected that, in this instance, I was going into a sec? tion wholly unknown to mc, where, iu case of an accident or any unex? pected turn of affairs, there would not be a single acquaintance near whose assistance I could claim, the matter began to assume a really serious as? pect. Not a word came in reply to my lotter up to the very day preoed ^^^^^ ' I iug tbe one which was to witness my departure from G--. On the even? ing of that day, however, a letter ar? rived, and an eager glance at the su? perscription was sufficient to produce an instant feeling of relief. It -was from my friend. My relief was short? lived. The letter had been written l>efore the receipt of mine. Not a word -was said of the appointed day, or about sending for me; but more entreating me to come at once. Her entreaties -were irresistible, and I de? termined, without further hesitation, to leave G-at the appointed time on the following morning-braving all consequeuces. What the conse? quences were will appear in the se? quel. ?Mrs. R-was much averse to the whole plan. Like a great many peo? ple, she had acquired the habit of in? dulging in strictures, and did not fail to improve the present favorable oc? casion. "She did not," she said, "in the first place, approve of young girls running over the country with? out their fathers or brothers, and in the next, even if I had an escort which I didn't-it -was, in her opi? nion, an unwise undertaking to pro? ceed to A-, where I was a perfeet stranger, without knowing to a cer? tainty that my friend would be there i iu readiness to receive me. And you a timid, inexperienced creature! Why, the whole thing is absurd! Take an old lady's advice, child, and stay j where you are." Truly, it was not long before I : heartily wished that I had! I would I gladly have withdrawn from the bar ' gain altogether, but the probability ! of my friend sending her carriage ! such a long distance, and being dis ! appointed at my non-arrival, ren ! dered it now, I considered, too late ' to retract. Of course my letter would reach her before the timo for me to set out. Why need I disturb my ' mind in contemplating a contingency . which might never arise? Thus 1 ? argued within myself, and thc rea j Boning tendered to re-assure me. I ' have never, like some people, adopt j ed the practice of going half-way to j welcome trouble. My own expe ! rierice convinces me that it is never right or expedient to do so. Always give it a wide berth whenever it is possible-to catch you, it is sure to do, anyhow, some day; and why not let the evil be avoided until you can? not help yourself? What with ima? ginary trials in the prospectivo and real ones in the present, there is very little peace to be extracted from the ! things of this earth. All arrangements were completed for my departure. I had already taken my farewell-look at tho moun? tains, looming up so grandly in the distance; and after a last chat with old -friends-a chat carried far into the night-went to my room for a few hour's repose. It was, indeed, but a short rest I was able to snatch, for, like all railroads, the one of which I write was apparently con? ducted on the plan of starting at tho most inconceivably inconvenient hours-seemingly desirous of making things as universally disagreeable- for unfortunate travelers as possible. Long before the fair Aurora had given the slightest indications of her appearance, I found myself torn ruthlessly from a most refreshing slumber, and in a half-way state, be? tween waking and sleeping, seated beside Mr. W- in the carriage. There was a general confusion ol ideas in my head about cold biscuits, j hot coffee, and a scalded throat-and this was all, for at least a mile; by which time tho motion of tho car? riage, and its rolling sound along thc frosty road, began to make some dis? tinct impression on my benumbed j senses. i It was a cool morning, I remember, and I was beginning to commiserat? I the condition of tho driver out-side, ! when we drew up at the depot. Il : was dimly lighted with lanterns her? and there, and people were stirring ! about considerably, buying ticket? I and cheeking baggage. A comfort able seat l>eing secured, and my tick? et lodged safely in my pocket-book, 1 immediately set to work wishing lo? comotion would begin. I believe this is the orthodox programme with tra velors. lu this instance-one in r thousand-my patience did not sutler. We were soon rushing along at ; swift rate through the morning air My first decision in devising som? plan-pour ?Kisser le temps-was ii I favor of a comfortable nap, curled nj cozily on the seat; but this apparently j easy job, like some things in life, wai much more readily framed in desigi than accomplished. Somnus or Mor I pheus, or -whatever god had been po lite enough to luke charge of m^ slumbers for this night, had been dis missed in too unceremonious a fa shion to return without some craving But os other things drew my at ten tion, and served to interest me, I dh not distress myself concerning tin matter. T began to watch what th Germans so appropriately call Mot genroth; the gradual, indcscribabl change from the darkness and gloon of night to the brightness, tho fresh ness, the inexpressible beauty o morn. It is one of the sublimes sights in nature, to see the pall o darkness lifted from the ^arth, as i by the hand of magic, und in itsplao such an indescribable glow, such radiant flood of light, illuminating a terrestrial objects; then the crimso flushing in the East, and the gorgeou magnificence of the scene when th majestic King of the Day makes hi grand debut on the stage. Ah, thei is nothing like it for beauty-nothin .like it, in its peculiar, exhileratin charlu! Before this occasion,'I had often wondered where 'could be the fan of early rising, of jumping ont of bed half asleep, tumultuously tossing on your clothes, nt the speed of elec? tricity, and rushing out frantically like one demented-and all for what? Why, to see the sun rise. It used to puzzle me to find anything agreeable iu it, and it seomed to me that dew? drops, "charmsof earliest birds," the breath of morn and sun-rise were egregious humbugs. But I have lived to admit that they aro all enchanting realities, and to he impressed with the truth, that there is no hour in nil the twenty-four, not even the purple eve, nor sun-set, nor where the quiet skies are gemmed with stars, which is so delightful, so elevating, so inspir? ing, as the hour of sun-rise. En? gaged in such thoughts, the time did not drug heavily. Before I liad ex? hausted this fruitful field of imagina? tion, another was suggested somewhat metaphysical in its tendency. A change came over everything-the trees, with their rich autumn leaves, the wild bowel's, the sunny landscape, tlie very sun itself, no longer appeared the same. Why must things chang", I wonder, when they are pleasant? There had been a few scattered clouds about thc horizon, und they gathered around the sun, darkening his bril? liant face. lu a few hours, not ont of his beaming rays could be discern? ed anywhere. They lind disappeared "likes dream when ono awaketh." It grew quite dark, and the rain fell I in a slow, monotonous dingle. This, ! then, was the inglorious end of all I thnt beauty-, all that grund illumina tion, which, at early morn, had bathed the world in such a flood of glory! 1 was reminded of that little verse o! Moore's, which everybody knows ant* rc] lents: "All that's bright must fade Tho brightest still thc fleetest: All that's mvoct was made Hut ti? bc lost when sweetest." Of course thc drizzle changed int? a pouring Hood by the time we hac to change cars. The passengers ni hud their tempers sweetened by get ting ?trenched almost to the skin The conductor came forward am piloted me through a labyrinth o trains to the one in which the re mainder of my journey would lu prosecuted, lt was entirely destitute of occupants, which afforded me at unusual advantage in the selection o a seat. I tonk possession of one ii the extreme end of the cur, and turn ing to thc conductor, remarked "Judging from appearances, should say there was little traveling on this road." ."Yes," he replied, "you are cor rect in your surmise. It is only i branch of the main road, and some times, for days together, there is no a Kingle passenger." And depositin; my lunch basket, carpet-bag, and til the paraphernalia indispensable to ; lady in traveling, the conducto bowed in acknowledgment at in; thanks for his courtesy, and made hi exit. I waa thus left in solitary, un disputed possession of the entire car and for once could not make th usual complaints on account of th crowd, ami a want of breathing space. I might, indeed, have a doze) seats at once, if I liked, but no knowing exactly what manner of prc ceeding would enable me to occup; so many, 1 contented myself wit one. Sonic very curious and edifying rt flections wore suggested to me abort the uselessness of having more of nm thing than our wants demand, had often, I recollected, in moment of weariness-my body cramped i an uncomfortable posture, and m mind afflicted with its own inactivity indulged myself in the useless pa time of wishing - -for instance, that had a dozen scats. Whereas, it no became apparent to me, by the lig;l of present developments, that if, o such occasions, a benevolent fail had appeared and fulfilled my desiri to the letter, I would have been at a utter loss to devise any use whatev< to which the said seats could has been applied. 1 made sundry res? lotions (which have been kept invi< late since!) never to be so unreasoi able again. As this commendab resolution was, metaphorically speal ing, signed and sealed, I began t feel keenly alive to the fact, that n state of solitary grandeur was ruthi oppressive. Have you ever taken solitary l ido ou a railway-car, reade) If not, it would be quite useless i endeavor to convey an idea of tl sensations producen thereby. 1 kno nothing like it, except it be to { alone into the church, where one accustomed to worship every Sabbat with a crowd, and to sit for an hoi in one of its vacant pews. On the occasion in question, i doubt the gloomy weather hud a tl pressing influence on my spirits. Tl prospect was, indeed, dismal the extreme -a barren, mon?tono country it seemed to me, with i beauty of scenery, and nothing i tractive in landscape. Thc rain co tinued to fall slowly, with a mein choly sound; and the low, inoanii wind, ns it sighed through the foresi and the dreary rustling ^pt the de leaves on the ground, made me f? unutterably lonely. These sonn were not, so perceptible after tho tin was in motion-but even then, could but think what wretch weather it was for a carriage drive twenty miles over a rough count and bad roads. Then, former app: hensions occurred to my mind ab< a failure, to meet me, and the nnpli sant dilemma in which I would placed. To divert my attention'fn such an unpleasant theme. 1 1 thought me of reading. So, rum? maging in my portmanteau, I found thc last number of the Virginia Uni? versity Magazine, which had come by mail the day before I left G-, and had been thrown into the bag, with the careless remark, "T might fancy something to read on the way." "The contingency hud arisen, sure enougb," was my mental ejaculation, as I cut the leaves and disposed my? self comfortably to enjoy its contents. Being tins engaged, I was inter? rupted by thc opening of the door at the farther end of the car, and thc entrance of another passenger. "You arc rather tardy in making your ap? pearance on the scene," I thought, glancing at him casually; "been smoking a sogar in the baggage car, I suppose." Verily, I had reason after? ward to be sorry that he had made his appearance at all! However, at first, 1 felt very little concern about the other passenger, and turned, for companionship, to my book. There was the usual variety of such publications, poetry, stories, literary essays and short arti? cles, very pungent and witty. I would "do it." 1 thought, like coun? try poople read the newspapers, (at least I've been told so.) begin at the first column and wade through to the last, advertisements and all. Having decided on this admirable plan. I I had just gotten into the merits of the j Opening article win n the dim con? sciousness dawned upon nve that my fellow-passenger was a most unmiti? gated fidget. "In the name of i wonder, why does the man change ! Iiis seat so frequently?" was my men j tal comment-for, be it observed, on ; first entering, he bad taken the seat i nearest the door, and Ly frequent ebunges, was now somewhat, beyond the middle of tho car. He came still nearer and nearer, and at last my cu? riosity became so excited, I lost all interest in the magazine, and laying j it idly in my lap, employed myself in I trying to imagine what could make I the man so dreadfully restless. His ! malady, whatever its cause, did not I improve; he continued to move about j uneasily, and was now so near, a.s to i admit of a ?dose inspection of his person. I scanned him narrowly, when 1 thought he did not perceive : my observation trying, if possible, to discover if there was anything in his appearance, indicative of an evil conscience which was, at that time, i the only reason I could assisi i foi such perturbed restlessness, j He was a tall, young man. scarcelv over twenty-live, 1 should judge slenderly, slightly built, and must be, I thought, in delicate health. Thif supposition did not originate aloin from the almost unearthly pallor, which characterized his face, but als< from his white, emaciated, almost transparent hands, and the genera air of melancholy which market! his appearance. He was certainly an invalid- a great sufferer-then could be no doubt of that in my mind, for 1 noticed that occa sionally the blood would mount nj in a crimson flush to his cheeks, am then as suddenly recede, leaving hi face more shockingly pallid than be? fore. He was dressed like a gentle man, in a suit of black-good mate rial and fashionably made, but lu wore them carelessly. His cravat hun j loosely around his neck, and titer was an air of wildness and excitemen pervading his whole person. As h eontiuued to approach, 1 noted al these things, but the peculiarity o his face, which first attracted am ! then absorbed my attention, were bi eyes. Tiny were remarkable eye* deep set, hollow, keen as a falcon'.* with something mysterious, snpei natural in their fiery glance. Th expression once seen was never foi gotten. What was it? What wa the fascination which made me loo in spite of myself, which made in powerless to resist their wild, ur earthly charm? 1 tried to analyz the secret of their power. Was tb influence they exerted on the behob er pleasurable? No; far from ii On the contrary, the moment I caugl the expression of the man's eye. felt an inward shrinking, an indi finable fear take possession of mt lint where had I seen that expressio before! Sundy somewhere. Ye: Good Heaven! on a sudden the trat flashed upon me. 1 bad once bee at the Lunatic Asylum in the city < (' . where ! bad seen ?me of tl patients, a crazy clergyman, who ha just stich eyes. Hen? was the clue t the unaccountable antipathy'whir their expression inspired. Could believe it? Was this man a lunati too? The thought was frightfi enough, but there was little leisui for specidation on the ?abject; no ; indeed, for anything else, for tl young mau had now, sans cersmoni taken his seat beside me, and was e gerly inspecting me from head 1 foot. Oh! you may imagine my se ' sat ions! Great God! would he nev ; have done? Would the man nev i cease that terrible, stony stare fro those glaring, i 'pulsive eyes? 1 ft : the blood rush painfully to my fae and then I felt weak and cold, ns il ! would taint. Tf the conductor won only come, or if somebody was ne whom I might call to the rescu But no; there 1 was, shut up alone a railway coach with a lunat Would I be murdered there in cc blood anil none to save nie? Or ' might fancy to see nie leap from t I platform and the train in full spet There was no accounting for t freaksof insanity. All these thougl rushed through my mind with t rapidity of lightning, lt was only I ezerting the most powerful self c< trol I could refrain from screaming, or giving vent, ip some way, to my excited feelings. If I had possessed sufficient strength, most assuredly a desperate effort would have been made to reach the door; btit there I was, literally chained to the spot with fear, as firmly as a galley slave to his oar. After apparently satisfying him? self as to my personal appearance, the young man bent forward, and in ti calm, quiet tone demanded, "Are you traveling alone?" I could not have been more aston? ished had Mount Chimborazo fallen at my feet, for I expected only the thunders of Jupiter to emanate from the dreaded monster. After several moments had elapsed, I found strength to answer, "Yes." "Where are you going?" in a still milder voice. "I expected," I said, "to lind some friends to meet me at A-." "A- is a small village," half so? liloquized my companion; "it is a horrid, muddy place. Are you ac? quainted there? Do you know many people?" "No," I told him; "I had never been there in my life, and as far as my knowledge extended, had not a single acquaintance in the place." j The reply seemed to give him hearty satisfaction, for some reason, : evinced by a wild Hash from his ! gleaming eyes. "What is your name?*' was his next attack. j Truly, .Monsieur Madman, 1 | thought, you have kept your inqnisi tivenesss in n remarkable state of pre? servation; if your other faculties were I developed in the same ratio, you would be a prodigy. Feeling repng nant to disclose my name. I preserved a discreet silence, pretending not to j have heard the question, and, incre- j dible to state, my : .ad acquaintance ha?! consideration enough not to press the matter. S<> I thought then. For j the first time, he removed his eyes those basilisk eyes-from my face, j allowing his gaze to wander about j the ear. then out into the rain, tinnily resting opon me again. "So you have no acquaintances in A-V he resumed. "None. " "Suppose your friends fail to meet yon: what will you do?"" There! That was the question which had tormented me already he- j .youd expression. Why did he ask it? And why did he watch me so intently? "1 don t know,"*! answered; and then, ina trembling voice, asked. "Ts there no hotel?'" "Vi s, he believed there was-didn't : know exactly- - in fact, it would bo ; veiw unpleasant at the hotel for me ! anyhow; but he'd already arranged the matter for me nicely." Benevolent individual! lt was a j revelation to me certainly, for I had never known before that crazy people were so kind-hearted. Here was the nice arrangement--listen to it. J [CONTINUED OX FRIDAY.] Internal Revenue Tax. TI ll I?l> DISTRICT S. C.. M .uu- ? 18, 1866. 4 bb persons in business, trade or pro -CJL fessiou ot' anv kind since lilith of May, ! 186.), arc required to pav their licenses forthwith. Vf. A. HAMOS, | Collector for Richland District. ? ??~ Olliee Court House square. March H Shovels, Spades, Forks, &c. .1/ tin siijii of the Hohle,i Pad-Lock. ? VI .ARGE supply of SHOVELS, Spades, I Garden Fork"?? and Rakes, Manure ! Forks, Ac. For .-ale low liv April DIAL A POPE. j Scythe Blades! Scythe Blades! j 1/ the Sign of the Golden Pad-J.ix-k. .)."' HOZ. superior SCYTHES, in store I ^?_) and foi- sale cheap bv April '.>.-> D?AL A POPE. COTTON AND WOOL CARDS. "tX TH OLES AI. F. and retail bv V\ March 22 DIAL A POPE. Engine, etc., for Sale. AFIVE-HORSE ENGINE, in running order, with pnllevs, ? te., for sale low. Apply at this office. " Dee 21 Fishing Tackle. ITCHING TACKLE, of every variety, in . store and for sale cheap for cash bv i April 1:5 DIAL A POPE. ] Blacksmiths' Tools. Al the Sign of the Holden Pad-Jjock. BELLOWS, ANVILS, VICES, SCREW PLATES, buttresses, Pincers, Tongs, Rasps, Files. Farriers' Knives ami Ham mers, Ac In store and for sale low for ! cash bv DIAL A POPE. ! MAKE YOU OWX SOAP ! It'l Sating and t'sitig ?eon- Waste t?rense. bl'Y ONE BOX OF THE Pennsylvania Salt Manufacturing Company's SAPONIFIER, OK CONCENTRATED LYE. IT will make ll) pounds of excellent HARD SOAP, or 25 ?allons of the very best SOFT SOAP, for only about 35 CENTS. Directions on each l?ox. For ?ale at all Drug and Grocery stores, ?nd in lots at wholesale bv WM. "M. ELLICOTT A SONS, No. 8 Spear's Wharf, March 1 3mo baltimore. Md. Manufacturers' Supplies ! MILLWARD & \Y1\EBRE\ER. 118 Market St -eel, Philadelphia, DEALERS in MACHINERY and SUP? PLIES of CN cry description for Cotton and Woolen Manufactories. Also, Oak tanned LEATHER BELTING, CARD CbOTHING, Cotton and Woolen YARNS, Warps, Starch, Oils, Dye Stuffs, ftc. Ad? vances made on consignments of Cotton and Woolen Yarns. Orders solicited, which shall receive prompt attention. WM. MILLWARD, D ?S WIN EBBEN ER. March 7 Sm o New York Advertisements. BRIT MTMTil DY THE EUREKA GIFT ASSOCIATION. ESTABLISHED 184?. 180 Broadway, New York. Rosewood Pianos, Melodeocs, Fine Oil Paintings, Engravings, Silver Ware, Fine Gola and Silver Watches. Diamond Pins, Dia mond Rings, Gold Bracelets Coral. Florentine, Mosaic, Jet, Lava and Cameo Ladies' Sets, Gold Pens with Gold and Silver Extension Holders, Sleeve Buttons, sets of Studs, Vest and Neck Chains, Gold Rings, &c, VALUED AT ^1,000,000. DRETRIBUTION is made in thc foUowing. manner: Certificates, naming each article and its value, are placed in sealed envelopes, which are well mixed. One of these envelopes, containing the certificate or order for some article, will be delivered at our office or sent by mail to any address, without regard to choice, on receipt of 25 cents. On receiving the certificate, the purchaser will see what article it draws and its value, and can then send ONE DOLLAR and receive the article named? or can chooa* any other one article on our hst of the same value. *?- Purchasers of our HEALED ENVE? LOPES may, in this manner, obtain an article TM?L I rom One lo Fire Hundred Dollars, For One TJollar, Which; they need not pay until it is known what is drawn and its value. Entire satis? faction guaranteed in all cases. THE EUREKA GIFT ASSOCIATION Would call attention to t he fact of its being the original and largest Gift Association in the country. We are, therefore, enabled to send goods and give better chances to obtain the more valuable frizes than any other establishment of the kind. The bu? siness continues to be conducted in a fair and honorable manner, and a large and greatly increasing trade : 1 proof that our patrons appreciate this me hod of obtain? ing rich and elegant goods. During the past year, this Association has sent a very large number of valuable prizes to all parts of the country. Those who patronize us will receive the full value ol' their money, as no article ou our list is worth less than One Dollar, retail, and there arc 110 blanks. Parties dealing with us may depend on having prompt returns, and the article drawn will be immediately sent to any ad? dress by return mail or express. The following parties have recently drawn valuable prizes from the Eureka As? sociation, and have kindly allowed the use of their names; many other names might be published were wc permitted: Andrew Wilson, Custom House, Philadel? phia, Penn., Oil Painting, value $100; Jas. Hargraves, H21 Broadway, New York, Oil Painting, value $100; E. E. Jones, Barrett. Marshall Co., Kansas, Melodeon, vainc $200; 1'. J. Bvrnes, Waterbnrv, Ct., Gold Watch, value $125; J. F. Shaw, 224East24th street. New York, Piano, value $350; Mrs. Chas. J. Nevis, Elmira, N. Y., Piano, vale? $300; Miss Lucy Jam-way, Elmira, N. Y., Ouster Diamond' Bing, value $200; Mrs. K. Ben? dover, City Hotel, Nashville, Tenn., Melo? deon, vallie $125: Oscar M. Aden, Co. B. Mid Beg. Ind. Vols., Nashville, Tenn.. Watch, value $85; Rowland S. Patterson, Co. D, 10th Iowa Vet. .Vols., Oil Painting, value $100; Mrs. Abbey J. Parsons, Spring? field, Mass., Melodeon", value $150; Jas. L. Dexter. City Surveyor, Syracuse, N. Y.. Cold Watch, value $'l50; Mrs. James Ely, 177 Wooster street, cor. Bleeker, N. ?., Oil Painting, value $100; Mrs. J. C. Coles, Grand Rapids, Michigan, Silver Castor, value $40; Dr. J. B. Sinclair, No. 4 M*in st.. Utica, N. Y., Framed Engraving, value $25; Hon. Luther Detmold, Washington, D. C., Oil Painting, value $100. Letters from varions parties throughout the countrv. acknowledging the receipt of very valuable gifts, may be seen on file at our office. _ To be Sold for One Dollar Each, Without regard to eahte, and not to be jutid for until yon knott trhat you >H? receive. 50 Eleg't Rosewood Pianos, EACH. worth from.$250.00 to 500.0tl 50 Melodeons, Ros'd cases. 125.00 to 225.00 100 fine Oil Paintings. 25.?0 to 100.00 100 gold H'g Case Watches 75.00 to 159.0o 150 Diamond Rings. 50.00 to 200.60 250 Ladies1 Gold Watches 60.00 to 85.00 150 Silver Watches. 25.00 to 50.00 200 fine Steel Eng's, fr'md. 12.00 to 25.00 100 Music Boxes. 12.00 to 45.00 lOOSil'rRev'gPat.Castoi-s 15.00 to 40.00 100 " F t and Cke B'kets. 15.00 to 35.00 500 sets Silver Tea and Tablespoons. 15.00 to 30.00 2,500 Vest and Neck Chains 5.00 to 25.00 2,500 Ladies' Silver Porte monaies. 8.00 to 15.00 3,000 Silver Butter Knives 3.00 to 7.00 2,000 pr Ear-rings,new style 1.50 to 6.00 3,000 -Gold Pencils and Toothpicks. 3.00 to 8.00 3,000 Onvx and Amethyst Brooches. 4.00 to lO.oo 3,000 Lava and Florentine Brooches. 4.00 to 6.00 1,000 Masonic Tins. 4.00 to 6.50 2,000 fine Gold Web Keys. 8.50 to 6.50 ' 5,000 Children's Armlet's . 2.50 to 8.00 2,500 sets Bosom Studs .. 1.50 to 5.00 > 2,500 En'd Sleeve Buttons. 2.50 to 10.00 10,000 Plain Gold and Chased Rings. 1.00 to 5.0O 5,000 Stone Set A S'l Rings 2.50 t.> 10.0o 5,0(10 Lockets, all sizes . 2.00 to 7.00 10.000 sets Ladies'Jewelry 8.00 to 20.00 4,000 Watch Charms, each 3.00 to 5.50 5,000 Gold Pens, Silv Ex C's 4.00 to 6.00 5,000 trent's Breast and Scarf Pins. 3.00 to 20.00 2,000 Ladies' New St\lc Belt Buckles . 4.00 to 6.50 2,000 Chatelaine and Guard Chains. 6.00 t.> 20.00 1,000 Gold Thimbles. 7.00 to 14.'?0 2,000 set Ladies'Jet ? Gold 10.00 to 20.0? 10,000 Gold Crosses. 1.50 to 6.00 6,000 Oval Band Bracelets. ?-..00 to 20.00 4,000 Chased Bracelets. 5.00 to 16.00 2,000 Ball Ear-drops, all colors. 3.00 to 5.00 5,000 ?ne Gold Pens . 2*H? to 3.50 2,000 New Style Jct and Gold Ear-drops. 3.00 to 7.00 2,500 New Stvle Long Crys? tal Ear-dcops. . 4.00 to 8.00 2,000 Gold Pena. 3.00 to 6.oo KW A chance to obtain any of the above articles for ONE DOLLAR by purchasing a Sealed Envelope, for 25 cents. sar Five Sealed Envelopes will be sent for $1.00; eleven for $2.00; thirty for $5.00, sixty-five for $10.00; one hundred for $15.00. AGENTS -WANTED EVERYWHERE. Our patrons are desired to send United States money when it is convenient. LOOK letters are unnecessary. Orders for Sealed Envelopes must in every case be accompa? nied bv the ensh^with the name of the person' sending, abd Town, County and State plainly written. Letters should bs addressed to the Managers as follows: GOODWIN, HUNT & CO., Feb 10 75* Box 5,706 Post Office. N. Y