K, ;"3il'lg nervously from his
I I’: "'l'|Il' 3-in-A "lnalgna .....—-. -
“How shall I get her home, he ex-
claimed. “If we could only convey her
there as she sleeps.”
“It would be next to an impossibility,
over these rocks. You might try, how-
ever. We have strong arms at least I
have ;--you look wearied out. Let me
take her. She is light, poor thing.” and
he lifted the insensible form. “Do you
go forward and pilot me. We have still
moon enough to find the way.
Grace was thus conveyed home—ber
heavy slumber unbroken—and laid with-
in her own little room.
Everybody far and near, rejoiced when
the news spread ; for who did not love
Grace.
When she awoke in the morning, her
father sat beside her, gazing with mourn-
ful earnestness in her face. For an in-
stam she glanced around, bewildered,
then springing up, she said, “I am not at
home; carry me to my home.”
“Grace,” said her father, restraining
her, “you would not leave me, love; do
you see this is your own little chamber?
look from the window see the hill you
love so well ; here are your pictures,
you books—this is your home my child.”
"No, no ; I tell you no; it is not my
home——oh, let me go quick ; Horace will
be here ; he will see me,” and she cover-
ed her face with her hands, again attem-
pting to leave her couch.
“Grace, have you forgotten me 3" ask-
ed her father mournfully;
His tender tones seemed to recall her
reason; with a deep drawn sigh she ga.
zed for a moment steadfastly upon him,
and with a most thrilling manner said,
“No, father, though all the world forsake
you, I will not,” but it was not the fitful
blaze of the expiring candle; her thoughts
almost instantly following in the track of
her disorderded imagination.
“I cannot see him,” she exclaimed, re-
solutely, "and when I go home,” rever-
ting to the cave, “you must not tell him
where I am. 0! this is a great sacrifice
I love him, I love Horace, father--but
then, it will be better for me to live alone
I must be alone, for you see, father, my
brain burns constantly, and besides, she
haunts me here,” she continued, her fin-
ger pointed at vacancy.” “Why do you
let the sun shine upon me ? there is al-
ready a fire within my brain and within
my bosom—what do I want of the sun '2”
Then she sank again into that lethar-
gic slumber that was evidently becoming
habitual to her.
It was a long while before she awoke;
she seemed more rational, and did not
once avert to her journey or the circum-
stances of her return.
Herman was constantly by her side,
but despite his watchfulness she escaped
again, and was found in the same place,
composedly reading, and to: all appear-
ance, as perfectly happy in her dreary
solitude as she could be. So a few house-
hold goods were transferred to the little
cave, a door constructed, and the dismal
place soon presented the appearance of a
well arranged room.
Every day the father journeyed to and
fro intent only on administering to the
caprices of the poor demented one.
CHAPTER VIII.
‘-' In all misfortunes, this advantage lies,
They make us humble and they make us wise’
Horace had heard nothing of this last
great aflliction. That Grace wasdishon-
ored in the eyes of a censorious world,
he was aware ;but his love was too holy
a principle to be thrown aside lightly ;—
not once did he dream of deserting her ;
be viewed the crime of the father with
abhorrence, and shrank from the thought
of allying his interest with him, but that
'he, the innocent, child-like, pure crea-
ture was to blame in any degree, the
thought was sacrilege; he felt that she
had greater claim to his love, his protec-
tion, than before. He had for a long
time received no letters, and he feared
her too sensitive spirit shrank from confi-
ding in him as formerly, now that she
falsely imagined her situation debarred
her from connecting with the unstained.
Alas! how little he dreamed of the sad
reality.
Leaving his mother and sister comfort-
ably sitnated, he set out upon his journey
and in due time arrived at the town of
L
Greatly surprised at the removal of the
judge, and not caring to interrupt the
peculiar glances which he felt rather
than saw, indicated that something was
wrong, he turned his horse’s head in the
direction pointed out him, and eager to
behold Grace, hurried into the little house
almost without warning.
Judge Stanton was reading-—a habit
usual with him of mornings, but after a
wild, transfixed gaze, as if to assure him
self that this presence was real, he sprang
from his seat, a glad smile irradiated his
countenance, yet half hesitating as he
held out his hand.
Horace in whose heart the old filial
feeling pleaded in favor of that world-
weary man, so penitent, so sufferirg,
held forth his hands, and with a warm
grasp shook his patron's hand with real
cordiality.
“I should not have recognized you,”
he exclaimed, gazing curiously, first at
Herman, then around the meagerly fur.
nished room.
"I wonder not,” answered the Judge,
sighing; “I doubted much ' whether I
should ever meet you again.”
An awkward silence ensued. There
was a weary, uncomfortable feeling
hanging like a weight upon the usually
light spirits of the young man ; Grace
was on his tonge, in his-every thought,
and that unaccountable presentment kept
him from mentioning her name; and still
he looked for her momently to glide
through the little door. .
"0! Mr. Horace—dear Mr. Horace,
did you rain down from the sky ?” ex-
claimed Madam Eeland, hurrying into
the room and grasping his hand, “alas,
alasg” she uttered in a more mournful
tone, while her eyes filled with tears.
“What does she mean '.'” asked the
young man, with"-a gesture of alarm, ri-
seat, and confron-
...c ..
“Have you not heard then?” asked’
the latter, leaning heavily forehead.-
"You have. Why should I ask? You
know of the misfortune that_ has befallen
our dear girl.”
“Certainly I do ; but what of that?”
asked the young man, his voice growing
cheerful. "Do I not assure you by my
presence that I regard it as no abstacle
to our union?”
"Not that—not that,” groaned the
wretched man, waving one hand and
bowing his forehead upon the other—-
"not that; would it were nothing more!”
The nurse sobbed violently.
"What do you mean?” asked Horace
in a low, freezing tone, as if schooling
his _heart to bear the worst. "Tell me,
oh ! my father! can she be dead 2”
“Worse—worse l” groaned the judge,
opening his palms and closing them con-
vulsively. ‘*0! I could have laid her
beside her sainted mother with pleasure,
rather than this—rather than this.
Grace is no longer Grace of other days
that beautiful mind is in ruins.”
“In other words,” added Horace, with
fearful calmness, “Grace is crazy-—-a ma-
niac,” and he clasped both hands before
his eyes, as if a sudden pain shot through
them. “My cup of sorrow is full,” he
groaned with heartfelt emphasis ; "oh,
now indeed my cup of sorrow is full !”
And the related all ; the cause of her
maniacy, its-approach, its present phase.
He did not spare himself; he probed the
thrice opened wounds; he wept, he
spoke of his child’s desertion, but his
eyes brightened with the olden fire as
he exclaimed, “Yet she still loves me,
thank God!”
“And me ?” murmured Horace,” does
she forget me?”
"Ah, it is touching to hear her talk of
you,” exclaimed the nurse. “I know
she loves you, poor darling, with her
whole soul; but her mind, you know
cannot reconcile your love and respect
with her—-her disgrace, as she deems it.’
For the first time the lip of the young
man quivered.
"I may at least see her,” he exclaim-
ed, passionately.”
“You shall, gladly,” replied Judge
Stanton. "I will speak to her about you
immediately. Who knows” and his
countenance brightened—“who knows
but your presence may restore the poor
child to her right mind ”
Oh, that it might! Even should that
fail, she may not be incurably insane.—
Have you thought of our institutions
north, where the malady of the brain is
made a subject of the deepest study, and
solicitously attended to by the master
minds among the medical men? I can-
not, will not give her up,” and again he
paced the narrow length of the room.
He paused abruptly in the midst of
his walk, and saying, "I will come to-
morrow; prepare her, if possible, for a
Visit from me,” he left the house, moun-
ted his horse and rode away,
The air was gentle and refreshing ; he
bared his hot brow and let the soft wind
woo with invisible fingers the curls of
his glossy hair.
Passing Sillsbee’s Hotel, he casually
glanced up, and started at the beautiful
vision that met his gaze ; for Rosa, now
almost convalescent, had been wheeled to
the open window, and was gazing with
new interest upon the golden orchards
and the purple hills in the soft distance,
Her wild black eyes were larger and
brighter from sickness; her midnight
tresses, curled in masses, floated around
her, and hope had crimsoned her dark
cheek.
That instant their eyes met. A deep-
er blush mounted to the brow of the West
Indian, as she called the chancellor’s sis-
ter, exclaiming, “Mark him, Blanche, at
the table; find out who he is. Did you
notice his distinguished air, his graceful
carriage ?”
Horace, in mean time had made a like
inquiry of the landlord, in subdued tones,
for heart his had forewarned him;but not
with pleasure did he ask; and when he
learned the name of the lovely stranger,
his whole face grew dark with concen-
trated hate.
Rosa was to be united as soon as the
chancellor returned from England, whith.
er important business had summoned him
For some years they had been devot-
edly attached to each other. Charmed
at first sight, he made her acquaintance,
and in process of time she informed him
of the one absorbing purpose of her life
and it results thus far. She had decided
upon visiting America.
“The young man who so pleased your
fancy to-day was at the table, Rosa; and
there was such an air of abstraction and
melancholy about him, I could not for-
bear noticing it.”
“It is strange '3” mused Rosa; but she
said nothing more. '
“Here comes the postman,” said Blan-
che, eagerly, “with letters, perhaps, for
both of us. Yes,” she continued, as a
servant handed her three letters ; “two
from England, one mailed West Indies.
These are for you ;” and she placed the
parcel in Rosa’s hand.
"Thank God!” she exclaimed, perus-
ing one with absorbed attention. “It is
the first letter from home since I have
been here, and mother is better ;——still
back to her. He was not worthy of you,
my mother," she harshly exclaimed, as
indignation usurped every other feeling.
“The other is from my brother, I sus-
pect,” said Blanche.
“Yes,” was the laconic reply.
The following day Horace set out for
the Hermitage, as Judge Stanton’s resi-
dence was called.
He found Herman wearied and much
dispirited; he had been watching by his
poor child all night, and she had seemed
more wandering than usual. Silently
the two wended their way to the lonely
cave. V
They entered. The poor girl had
sought her couch, and now thoroughly
.; .....;.......
exhausted, was quietly asleep. Her
. ,,,__ ...., .~ 1 2 .3, ,_,_.- r
of excitement; her delicate lips parted.
her even and perly teeth gleamed through
the lines of coral.
Horace stood transfixed as if before a
divinity.
Grace had grown very beautiful, and
his heart beat with a stronger and purer
love as he gazed on the slight form that
reposed at their feet.
She murmured half audibly. Horace
bent lower above her. It was his name.
Sleeping or waking he was not absent
from her thoughts.
Yielding to the tenderness that welled
up in his bosom, he knelt beside the
sweet girl and imprinted a burning kiss
upon her brow.
Starting, she opened her eyes slowly
and dreamily, full upon the yearning
glance of her lover. For a moment they
rested there ; gleam after gleam of intel-
ligence passed over her face ;—-then with
a cry, thrilling with its intensity of de-
ligltb, she sprang toward Horace, and
with a wild hysterical sob, fell upon his
breast;
With what yearning love did he clasp
her there and hold her with both his
strong, manly arms, resolved that no hu-
man power should tear her thence.
Placing both hands upon his shoulders,
Grace threw back her head and fixing
her beaming eyes upon him, said, with
mournful tenderness, “Why did you leave
me '!—why have you deserted me so
long, Horace '.’——oh, why 9” then, before
he could reply, some thought gave an
expression of horror to her fair features;
she strove to release herself from his grasp
and shaking her head, murmured slowly,
"You should not have come hither, Ho-
race ;—leave me, leave me!” and she
shrank from him as she strove to hide her
face. "I am not fit to be touched by you
not good enough for your eyes to rest up-
on me. Leave me ;” and she struggled
wildly to unlock his arms.
“Grace, Grace, don’t ask me to leave
you,” implored poor Horace. “I have
come back unchanged,—loving you bet-
ter than ever before—better than my
life, Grace.” But still she strove to dis-
engage herself.
“Grace, my darling, it is true,” mur-
mured the anguished father. "Believe
him, Grace.”
After this first scene of sorrow, by the
advices of her physician Horace contin-
ued to visit her. By talking soothingly
with her, and assuring her constantly of
his unalterable love, she soon began to
regard him with less excited feelings:
and at last waited for his coming with
anxiety and met him with evident pleas-
ure.
Rosa was rapidly gaining strength,
and one fine day in the beginning of Au-
gust she descended to the dining-room,
leaving upon the arm of Blanche.
Horace was there. She sat at the table
nearly opposite him. There was no mis-
taking the glance he threw upon her; it
curdled the blood in her veins ; and the
proud woman, self-condemned, dared not
lift her eyes to his face again. She was
now convinced that this elegant young
man was no other than the unfortunate
lover of Grace Stanton, her sister. All
day she felt condemned and wreched, and
vainly regretted, now that it was too late
that she had not acted more womanly,
and used milder means to bring her fath-
er to a sense of his guilt.
Revenge was far from sweet now she
had enjoyed it to the utmost. That pale
face was ever before her, that mournful,
reproving, solemn glance haunted her ,
and, do what she would, she could not
banish them from her memory, She
longed to know something more about
Grace. It was very strange that every-
thing was kept so still and secret. She
had learned that her father often inquired
after her, and it.somewhat softened her
heart towards him.
“As soon as Stephen comes home,” she
exclaimed, one day, “I mean to have a
a ride on horseback. I am dying of en-
nui.”
True to her intention, Rosa prevailed
upon the chancellor, after his return, to
accompany her on horseback as far as her
favorite resort.
~ Away they started; nor did Rosa per-
ceive the pale, stern face of the young
American, as he stood folded arms in the
shadow, also gazing with the crowd, but
with how different emotions!
Over the smooth road, lined on each
side with towering oaks, and away be-
yond, where the tops of the trees leaned
over against each other, whispering their
loves in the language of the leaves, they
galloped on, and afar, where the woods
sheltered the sweetlittle ravine—Ro-
sa’s “first love,” as she termed it. _
“Rosa, I implore you to be careful,”
exclaimed the chancellor, as she dashed
forward, eager to be the first to enter the
charmed precincts. “Do not go on at
such a mad rate ;” and he playfully shook
his whip at her.
"I am bent on an adventure,” she mer.
rily answered back. “I am free cnce
more, and I’.l enjoy myself to my hearts
content. Oh, this glorious day; this
warm, rich sky!”
“But, my dear, you are not strong
enough to bear this exertion,,’ he repeat.
ed.
“But, my dear, you must let me have
fancies, poor heart, that he will come, my own way,”was thelaughing response
“you knowI will.”
The brow of her companion grew dark.
Her resistance occurred so often, that he
sometimes found himself doubting if, af-
ter all, she cared atitle for any one’s hap-
piness besides her own. He ceased to
expostulate; it had not the slightest ef-
fect; she did have her own way, and
when about to return home, was, as he
had predicled she would be faint, giddy,
and nervous, scarcely able to sit upright.
Obliged to rest frequently, their jour-
ney was necessarily slow, and when but
a few miles from home, the chancellor
proposed a nearer route. Rosa languidly
turned her horse's head in that direction
longing for a termination of their ride.
After a. few turnings, and windings,
they reached a dwelling house, and Ro-
""» ‘.".‘37i
derly and borne within, almost fainting
with the exertion.
A gentleman entered the front room
immediately after, evidently annoyed at
this intrusion.
In the tall, gaunt figure, with its mel-
ancholy forehead and sunken eyes, both
Rosa and the chancellor recognized Her-
man Stanton.
Rosa hid her face in her lover’s bosom.
“Anywhere but here! Oh, take me
hence!” she exclaimed, in a tone of en-
treaty.
“Rosa, do yon yet forgive not? have
you no pity in your bosom? does the
dark spirit of revenge yet dwell in that
woman's heart '3” asked the judge, stern-
ly and calmly,
"Does not the ruin, the wreck of my
child’s pure mind lessen your fierce re-
sentment '3”
The proud woman trembled and clung
still closer to the chancellor, who whis-
pered to her soothingly. I
“Hear me, daughter,” he said again,
in solemn, thrilling tones; "God will
have mercy upon you as you deal with
those who have injured you.”
"Speak, Rosa,” murmured the chan-
cellor, moving gently back, that she
might disengage herself from him, but
her head fell heavily forward. She had
fainted entirely away.
CHAPTER" IX.
“Canst thou minister to a mind diseased?
Or pluck out rooted sorrow from the heart?”
The wind soft as the breathing of an
Eolian harp, lifted the slight curtains, in
that rude chamber, and from the vase of
early flowers in the window sill, bore a
sweet fragrance to the bed of the suffer-
er. It was originally Grace's apartment
and fitted up with taste that in every lit-
tle arrangement told that delicacy inves-
ted the spirit of that gentle one with -a
sweetness that all her friends called an-
gelic. Against the white walls hung lit-
tle pictures of her own drawing—far
from perfect were they, but they spoke
of genius and imagined the beautiful;
every chair was adorned with embroide-
ry, and the table covers and bed-
spread—had all been fashioned by her
nimble fingers.
Rosa laid very motionless, her pale
face turned towards the window. All
over the gorgeous beauty of the sunset
sky, her lustrous eyes wandered at will.
The distant hills clothed in faint purple
loomed up to twice their size in the nus‘
ty haze, and the white moon, as fleecy
as the clouds, sailed softly through the
brilliant heavens.
Everything in nature was calm and
beautiful—not calm was the heart of this
once proud girl—she too felt some pangs
of remorse.
The judge entered, and drawing a
chair to her bedside. sat down with her
hand in his own. And Rosa suffered
him, she offered no resistance now; she
had forgiven him, told him so with tears
in her beautiful eyes. Now she gazed
long and sorrowfully at each finely moul-
ded but attenuated feature; at the fur-
rowed brow, the hollow eyes-the grey
hair, silvered with care not age; the lips
whit_e and ever compressed by painful
thought; all the love witheld for years
gushed at that moment in her heart, and
yielding to an impulse she could not.con-
trol, she lifted both arms towards him,
and murmured, "My father.”
It was the first time that tenderness
had hallowed‘ those words, with a wild
throb of joy, the judge bent above her,
till his white locks intermingled with the
bands of her silken hair. Then she flung
her arms around his neck, and felt as be
pressed her to his breast, how sweet it
was to forgive.
"You are better, my child,” he said, as
soon as his emotions would allow, "the
flush has gone, and your hand feels cool
and healthy—thank God, you are bet-
ter."
“Yes,father,better in body and sonl,”she
answered, in a subdued manner that seem-
ed not her own; “I wish I could always
have felt thus, and yet ”
"And yet how could you '3” interrup-
ted the judge; "you had much cause for
what you did, you have much, very
much to forgive in me my poor child.”
;u*,'_'*O! forgive me. I need most to be
forgiven,” murmured Rosa, hiding her
face in her hands.
_ “No, poor child,” you have been a life-
long sufferer-you and tlla .”
"Father,” interrupted Rosa, almost
wildly, "I needed not to be so vindictive
I shall never forgive myself-—I have told
you the truth, but not the whole truth,
father, how long after you left Cuba did
you marry '2”
“I had been in the wilderness over six
years when the fi-st settlers came,” said
J udg\e-Stanto_n, musingly ; “Grace came
the next year::tlutrwas seven and over
in two years we were—’,"_he stopped with
a troubled look, and theft‘ added, in a
manner sudden and painful, "Nine years
my child.” ‘
“Father, said Rosa, softly, “will you
forgive me that I did not tell you before?
It was in my power to save you so much
sorrow and pain; you have not asked
after my poor mother,” she continued,
deeply affected; then looking at him
steadily, she addded, “your first wife was
laid in her grave since I was eight years
old.” ‘
Like one stricken into marble, sat.
the Judge. He had no power to speak,
to move, till he felt the arms of his child
encircling his neck, and her tears upon
his cheek. Rising slowly, like one in a
dream, though his strength was weakness
he lifted his arms high, and with solemn
emphasis uttered a touching prayer ;—-
then, turning to Rosa, who sat up in the
bed, awe-struck at his manner and ap-
pearance he said—” Reproaeh not your-
self my child, you have been but an in-
strument in the hands of Him who hum-
bled me—of God, then, ask forgiveness
but oh! my child, my child!” and he
sunkion his knees at the bedside, "it is
as if heaven opened to me. Lelia, if thy
blessed spirit hovers above us now, wit-
ness these tears of joy that, through the
mercy of the infinite, thou wert not die-
C.‘1:..exlia1i%e,d,,;;;3_s,lifted ten-
,llonnrr=rl. Grace, grail? ‘flll,':‘(‘l' If than
at
«lidst suffer for my wrong, witness my re-
pentance. Almigllty Father, eternity
will be too short in which to tllankThee
for that over-ruling providence, that mer.
cy that kept me from sin-—Thou hast
chastened in mercy. Now tell me of your
mother, Rosa; did she die of a broken
heart '2"
"Your name was last upon her lips-—
she blessed you—forgave you—-implored
me also to love you— but my heart was
not llke here, from my earliest years I
studied for revenge. I saw her fade and
die, remember; say no more,” she ex-
claimed, with a sudden gestllfl‘, "1 Em
happier now, but I dare not dwell upon
those painful days, my heart is still very
wayward. Where is Grace, where is
my sister i” she asked, timidly.
Concluded next Week.
Totlne Ladies.
Extra Premiums for the Fair at
Stamford.
Mr. P. T. Barnum offers the follow-
ing list of Premiums to the successful
competitors at the next Fair of the Fair.
field County Agricultural Society, to be
held at Stamford, on the 6th, 7th and 8th
of October next :
Trial on Horseback by Unmaavied La-
dies, under 21 years.
First Premium, $25.
Second Premium, one sett of silver tea
spoons and Sugar Tongs.
Third Premium, an elegant Riding Hat
—-made and presented by the celebra-
ted Genin, of New York.
Fourth Premium, a Silver Cup.
Fifth Premium, a pair of Silver Butter
Knives.
Sixth Premium, aGold Thimble.
Seventh Premium, a Gold Pencil case.
[The above Prizes are open to Lady
riders from any part of the State] ,
Butter, (not less than Ten Pounds,)
made by a young lady under 2| years.
First Premium, an elegant Chinese
Workbox, with all the fittings.
Second Premium, a beautiful Papier
Mache Portfolio. ‘
Third Premium, an elegant Card Case.
Cheese made bya, Young Lady, Under
21 Years.
First Premium, a fine VVriting Desk.
Second “ an elegant fancy Fan.
Third an " Sun Shade.
Bread made by a Young Lady under
21 Years.
First Premium, a Silver Goblet.
Second a Port Monaie.
Third an elegant Card Case.
Daming, by a Young Lady, under 21
First Premium, a Silk Dress Pattern.
Second " a silk Mantilla Pattern.
Third " a Gold Thimble
Fourth " an embroidered Cam. hdkf.
Fifth “ a handsome Lace Collar.
Shirts made by a young lady under 21 .
First premium, 10 yards of fine Linen.
Second " a pair of silk Hose.
Third " a silk Sun Shade.
Fourth , “ a fine Cambric Hdkf.
All the above Premiums, except for
the riding, will be awarded only to la-
dies residing in Fairfield County.
The Com. of Arrangements will pub-
lish an early notice, naming the day and
hour when the horseback riding will
come off. They will also appoint the
various Com. for awarding the above
named premiums.
The butter and cheese offered for the
‘Barnum Premiums’ may also be entered
for the premiums of the Ag. Society.
The above premiums will be placed in
the Fair for public exhibition.
No fee will be required of any person
competing for the ‘ Barnum Premiums.’
Young Ladies intending to compete at
Horseback Riding, are requested to send
in their names to John H. Sherwood,
Sec’y of the Fairfield Co. Agricultural
Society, by or before the 15th of Sept.
Duelllng in Ilfassachusetts.-—The
laws of Massachusetts are rather strin-
gent on the subject of duelling, and may
bear hard on the “Irish patriot" who
got into a row in Boston, last week :
They provide that every person who
shall engage in a duel with any deadly
weapoon, although no homicide ensue,
or shall challenge another to fight such
duel, or shall send or deliver any written
or verbal message, purporting or intend-
ed to be such challenge, although no du-
cl ensue, shall be punished by imprison-
ment in the State Prison not more than
than twenty years, or by fine not excee-
ding $1000 and imprisonment in the
County Jail not more than three years,
and shall also be incapable of holding or
of being elected or appointed to any
place of honor, profit or trust, under the
constitution or laws of this Commoti-
wealth, fora term of twenty years after
such conviction. The law in relation
to accepting a challenge is also quite se-
vere.
Mrs. Fanny Kemble (Butler) is read-
ing Shakespeare in England. It is said
she is getting quite fleshy. The papers
say “ her massive and muscular itrm is
a wonder of flesh and blood, sinew and
bra\vn."
[[§> A most extraordinary custom pre
vails among the Vizres, a powerful tribe
occupying an extensive district in Cabul,
among the mountains between Persia
and India. It is, in fact, a female pre-
rogative that lias no parallel among any
other people upon the earth, and that re-
verses what we are in the habit of con-
sidering the natural order of things-the
women choose their husbands, and not
the husbands their wives. If a woman
be pleased with a man, she sends the
drummer of the camp to pin a handker-
chief to his cap, with a pin which she
used to fasteh her hair. The drummer,
watches his opportunity, and does this in
public, naming the woman, and the man
is obliged to marry if he can _pay her
price to her father,
RAIL RUAB ACCIDENT.
The 9,30 P. M., express train on the
New York and New Haven railroad, on
the passage down on Tuesday evening,
when passing through the village of Port
Chester, encountered a large rock which
had slidden from the bank on the "act-
—The engineer Mr. Theodore Humphrey,
was instantly killed, and the fireman,
Burr Mallett, slightly injured. Peter
Dennis, conductor, was also slightly in-
jured The engine was thrown from the
track and considerably smashed up. The
baggage car was overturned, but the in- '
mates, Mr. Harrington, the baggage mas-
ter, and a brakeman, (the latter thrown
into the car through the door by the con-
cussion,) escaped unhurt. None of the
passengers, as far as we learn were in-
jnred.
Another Dreadful Railrod. Accident.
roun KILLIb_ANI) MANY
moms: wouunrnz
Names of the Dead.
The passengers who left New York on
the boat for Amboy at three o’clock
Tuesday afternoon, left Amboy in the
cars at 5‘ o'clock en route for Philadel-
phia, the engineer driving on with his
utmost speed, to gain some twenty min.
utes lost time. On reaching Oldbridge,
seven miles from Amboy, the Conductor
espied the train from Camden, with five
cars, full of passengers, coming towards
him, and before the Amboy train could
check its speed, they came in_ full collis-
ion, crushing and breaking the engines,
and making perfect wreck of two of the
cars on each train, killing four, and
maiming a large number of passengers.
The following is the names of those kill-
ed and injured on the train from New
York :
D. H. Durkin, Esq., of New York,
was on the train, accompanied by his wife
three children and a white woman as
nurse, all of whom were caught under
the two cars which lapped on each other.
Mr. Durkin was slightly bruised; his la-
dy was more severely hurt, and the two
other children severely bruised, while the
nurse and younger child, about two years
old, were instantly killed. I
An unknown woman, apparently Irish
was sitting on the same seat with Dur-
kin’s nurse and child, and was instantly
killed.
A German, name unknown, was also
killed on the same car. He appeared
about 50 years of age, and had in his
pocket a gold watch‘ and some money,
which were taken charge of by the Agent
of Ludlum 8: Co's Express.
Thaddeus VVentworth, of Philadelphia
was severely bruised.
James McCormick, wife and daughter
of Harrisburgh, were slightly injured.
Misses Buckler and Alwick, in com-
pany were also slightly bruised.
Mr. Commerforth, Louisville, Ky.,
slightly bruised.
Albert Ebberman, of Philadelphia, se-
riously injured in both legs.
The following were in the train com-
ing from Philadelphia.
John H. Rowland of Norfolk, Va.,
and family, all slightly bruised.
Mrs. Maynard and child of Washing-
ton—child badly cut in the face
Joseph Davis of Morsetown, N. J ., se-
riously bruised—thought dangerously.
Rev. James Perviance of Miss, wife
and child, all injured, child had his thigh
broken, Mrs. P., totally disable by injury
to her lips, Mr. P., had his foot smashed,
Mary Jane Skelly, of Philadelphia,
slightly hurt; Wm. C. Ralyea, of Union
Broome Co., N. Y., cut and bruised.
The disabled cars on the train from
New York were piled on top of each
other. Those on the other train had
their floors torn out, and the seats entire-
ly raked to pieces by the hind wheels
and trucks becoming loose and flying
against the floors. There were many
very narrow escapes of life, among which
was that of Chas. T. Fuller, of Baltimore
who fell through the floor of the car on
the track and escaped without injury.
The indignation of the passengers was
unbounded. A meeting was called on
the spot and resolutiens denouncing the
Company and its officers as guilty of the
most reckless carelessness, adopted.
The Engineers and Conductors were
immediately arrested, and will be held
to answer the result of the Coroner’s
Inquest.
It is said that the cause of the accident
was that one or both of the trains were
out of time, and making for some station
at which to turn ‘out and let the other
pass.
The engineers were seen to leap off
their respective engines immediately be-
fore the collision.-—lV. Y. Tribune.
3? Two negro boys undertook to
drown a dog in James River, Va., at
Powhattan, a short time since, and one of
them rode the animal iato the water, in-
tending to leave him there to drown, in-
stead of which he was left to drown, as
was also the other boy, in attempting to
save him, while the dog swam ashore in
safety.
3:? The new Tunnel Borer built at
I-Iartford'works well. Instead of leaving
a core to be removed by blasting, as the
Hoosac machine does, it cuts an entire
circle, and is so constructed that the chips
of the rock can all be removed while it is
in motion. The cost of this machine is
about $25,000.
as-A young man by the name of
Edmund Slaiterlo, while on his way
from Franklin to Milford, on Sunday
week, to be married, met with a singu-
lar and fatal accident. He stopped at a
well to water his horse, when the buck-
et fell into the ‘well. He descended to
obtain it, when the well caved in and
buried him. He wasa native of Ire-
land. His intended wife was accompa-
ing him when this singular death thus
intervened to destroy their bright antici-
pations.- Woonsoclcet Pamiflt
au Another Terrible Accident! l
COLLISION on THE rnovmnncal
AND woncnsrna norms {
l
Fifteen. Killed!
mom". Tnaufiwouunrnlz
Another awful railroad accident occur-
red this morning, the particulars of which
as far as received. we give below:
A collision occurred on the Providence
and VVorcester railroad on Thursday
morning, between theflfirst up and down
trains. The train from Providence left
at 7,20 this morning. and was a reguls
train on time. The other train left.Ux.
bridge at 6.20, and had an excursion par.
ty on board from Vlfhrtinsville, going to
Providence and Newport. The train
was made up of eight first class cars.
The trains came in collision when go-
ing at nearly full speed, about five miles
from Providence, near the junction of
the Boston and Providence and Provi-
dence and Worcester roads, below Val-
ley Falls.
The result of the collision was terrible
The first car of the down train was smash-
ed to pieces, the tender having been
driven into the third car, about half its
length. The five rear cars were not
much injured.
In the first passenger car there were
only twelve or fifteen passengers, about
three or four of whom were killed out-
right, and nearly all of the others were
more or less injured.
In the third car, the effects of the col-
lision were frightful. Some of the pas-
sengers were killed outright‘ and others
were badly injured.
Fifteen passengers were taken out of
the above cars dead, and at least fifteen
badly, many of them probably mortally
wounded. Many of the wounded had
ther limbs broken, and their bodies bat-
tered_
Among the killed was the fireman of
the Uxbridge train. He leaves a wife
and two children at Uxbridge.
Most of the killed and wounded belong-
ed in Uxbridge and Whitinsville. They
were on their way to witness the yacht
race at Newport, and were in high spirits,
when this terrible accident occurred and
their joy was turned to mourning.
Mr. J. P. Butts of Millvill, and his
grandson, a boy of ten years of age,
were in the first car, and escaped almost
miraculously. The car was totally de-
molished, but he and the boy were
thrown in a most inexplicable manner,
out of the side of the car, and rolled
down an embankment. Mr. Butt’s was
not injured. The boy had a severe cut
on the head.
Another of the passengers, belonging
in Millville, was thrown out in the same
way,and was notinjured. Most, if not
all the other passengers in this car, were
either badly wounded or killed.
A very large number of the passen-
gers who escaped serious injury by this
train, were cut by the splinters.
The Providence train contained only
two cars—a first and second class car
Nearly all the seats in these cars were
dangerously injured.
There were probably about fifty pas-
sengers in this train, about half of whom
were cut and bruised.
Among the passengers was the Super-
intendent of the road, Mr. Southwick,
whose head was badly cut. The Su-
perintendent of transportation, Mr. Ste-
vens, not injured, Also Mr. Taber, clerk
of the road who was not injured. The
Conductor, Henry Card, also escaped in-
jury.
The first assistance rendered to the
passengers was by the 7,30 train for
Boston from Providence after the train
which came in collision with the U):-
bridge train, and arrived at the junction
about five minutes after-the collision.
Those on board the train assisted in
placing the wounded on the car which
was not injured, and took them back to
Pawtucket to obtain medical assisance.
The wounded were left at the depot in
Pawtucket and physicians were imme-
diately sent for. Dr. George Capronwas
in the train for Boston, but remained he-
hind to render assistance’ Arrangements
making when our informant left to have
the wounded providedfor.
The bodies of. the dead were left at
the place of collision, and one of the reg-
ular trains had just arrived, and would
assist in clearing the road.
The collision was the "result of the
reckless carelessness of the conductor
of the Uxbridge train, who, being late
at Valley Falls should have waited.—-
But, having the excursion party on board,
who were afraid of losing the steamboat,
and having but halfa mile to run to reach
the junction, hoped Io accompish the
distance before the arrival of the Provi-
dence train.
The Providence train, which had the
track, waited a moment or two behind its
time when it reached the junction, to
give ample time for the down train, and
then proceeded. The collision occured
at a curve, a short distance above the
junction, the up train not having attained
full speed. The down train was going
at a high speed.
Railroad Accident.
Atrain from Cumberland for Balti-
more, ran ofl" the track, Thursday after-
noon, seven miles above the Berkley de-
pot. The engine, tender and baggage
car were smashed. The fireman was
killed. The Engineer and a person on
the engine were badly hurt, The pas.
sengers escaped without injury.
A Curious Divorce Case.—Wil|iam
II.§Alexander applied to the New York
Courts for a divorce from his wife, for ill
treatment, intemperance, and general
abuse. The case was referred, and the
referee reported the charge of cruel
treatment was made out, and that the
plaintiff was entitled to a divorce, forev-
er, from bed and board. The Court de-
nied the decree, because the laws, while
they accord a divorce to the wife for ill
treatment, do not accord the same to the
,_ husband.
if l_ECEillZZlEllTE.
- -.
_...-.._...-u -.._.,.:-j
N°|'W31ka Tuesday, August 16, 1058.
on NEW rnrss.
W9 IN" received several personal vialts,mn
“" “"7 I" “'9 '°'~‘°ipt of comsrunicntioninoar
our brethren the Pl-es.’ .11¢e,,;,,,,,,, ,9 ‘flab
taln or; opinion of the new j5m._,,,,_.,._ Pm,’
which has recently been 1,. fip 1. on .a“_
All who have visited us and wigneued in 9”
ration, we believe, have gone away satisfied go
we are, that Mr. Montague has achieved a fig.
nal triumph, so far as the wants of the counrlry
press are concerned. We have now tested it
thoroughly, both with out-_n_¢wspope; fun
with the ordinary jobwork of a village gm.
and in whatever capacity we have ye: 1,“
casion to use it, it has given us the most pg;-.
feet satisfaction. And as a matter of justice to
‘is “’_‘’"-h)’ illwntor. we will here add, in easy
Pamcular have we found it to surpass ills‘:
recommendations. An ocean-once 99 “re,
:‘i':::¢ld9ansuine iimntorn. that we cannot
We flpinkmeutrou of the honorable exception.
the quam°“'f P3991‘. ltfelf, is an indication of
0“ Worfilef; Work it is capable of throwing
not one i‘ n 1‘ is by the has 0‘ me aw
. o whom had ever seen a Power .P;-qg,
prior to the putting up of this-One in outfie
(a knowledge not much behind our own how:
ever, so far as the pncfical warm 0‘ .
P°"°"‘ PW“ Were concerned.) The and
claimed by Mr. M. is 600 per hour-—-thin might
be deemed an average working by lnexperincod
hands-—but we have on it test of its speed, and
a man at the wheel, run off 20 per mlnugt ,g
small boy could run it, at this rate easily, bu-_.
lggwould find it difficult to stop it, should 1,
come necessary, at that velocity. A
lad; not yet 11 years of age in our else, exultr
in turning off‘ our edition.
In running with so much case, we could“
that Mr. .\I. has effected an improvement of in.
utmost importance, so far as the wants of they
for whose use it is intended are concerned, ‘ u
there would probably be in no office a lad wh.
could not run the press. .
-. The acme of the invention, is perhaps to b
stated—its price, as compared with those of.
similar kind which have heretofore been hm
Ours is the same size bed as the Hoe $2300.
N-pier. we believe-and its price is but 3800.
and in view of its simplicity and ease of run
ning, we could not be induced to nuke .3 en,
exchange with the Messrs. Hoe, for one ofthsi.=~
Napiers, in its stead. In short, so far as we art.
a judge, (and we believe we have examined
everything far and near intended to fill the long
existing vacuum,) it is just the pun: nudes‘
by our brethren, whose editions-are too large for
the slow, tedious pulling of the hand press, and
yet not suillcieutly large to demand the speed
of thousands per hour. As an evidence of Oil‘.
confidence in it, and the mechanical genius of
its originator, himself is practical printer, and
who for fourteen long years pulled the “Devin
tail,”—we at once purchased, unslght and un.
seen, a second one constructed for card print-
ing and jabbing. That has just been put in ope-
ration, and thus far proves abundantly satisfac-
tory. Our remarks are dictated from a desire
to relieve our editorial brethren of the band
press from the thraldom of “publication day,”
and not from a personal desire to compliment
the worthy inventor, who is ignorant of
the article we have here penned, and which
we hope of course, may be the means of fur-
thering his said He is at present constructing
at Worcester a larger and more rapid one on-
pable of averaging some 12 or 1500 per hour,
for the New Haven Register—price 31200, We
believe he is contemplating establishing a
manufectory either at Hartford or'Brldgeport.
More Rail Road Slaughter. .
The Death Angel seems to have cast his hrk
pull over us the past week. Comm_encing~with
the dreadful and so wautonly careless, accident,
on the Camden &. Amboy; Road, as to amount
to murder-We have the same night, the heel;
dent to the 11.30, P. M. Express to N. Y., at
Port Chester, occasioned by the falling of a
rock upon the track, resulting in the death of
Poor Humphrey. Hardly had the public mind
ceased the instinctive shuddering of horror at
these, when, the very soul is sickened with the
augmented horrors of a third——more shocking,
more awful in character, effect and culpability
of cause, than all that has gone before ; the
meeting of the trains on the Providence and
Worcester Road. Ending with the running of
a train off the track, the same day, on the Gun-
herland and Baltimore Road, whereby the tire-
man was killed, aud two or three sadly mutila-
ted. Whel are these frightful Rail Road accl-
dents to cease? Will not the public inslst upon
some thorough reformation or revision of the
present imperfect, and fatally uncertain, rules
of running on American Railways! Do not the
interests of the public and the interests of the
various Roads demand some general Convention
of Rail Road Superiutedeuts, for the purpose
of some thorough revision of rules, or the adop-
tion of some further precautions, which will for-
ever seal this hurling, thickenlng tide of death!
Nor has the work of death ended here. 1 The
week has been aptly called “ a Week 0f F 1'9 N101
Death.” The thermometer the last week. 11“
ranged from 90° to 102° in ‘I19 Elma“: “Id 3'97
exposed to the heat of the Elm; II“? 1113 ‘O 03'
durc a temperature of 115° or even more. In
the single city of New York, there have been
this week 220 sudden death .' Such a series of
vlgigafious 1,33 30 parallel in the history of our
count;-y_ Surely we have fallen upon evil tines.
\
Painful Accident.
The Rev. Mr. Woolsey of this vil-
lage met with a very severe and dis-
tressing accident, on Wednesday morn-
ing last,inear the scene of the calamity
of Tuesday night at Greenwich. He
got off the down train to witnus the
wreck, when the train began to back,-
aud he supposing it for the purpose of
getting in motion to proceed on its way,
undertook to jump on, and in doing so,
his foot slipped upon the rail, and was
horribly crushed by the wheels of the
car. Amputation was performed by
Drs. Lyrics and McLean, together with
Dr. Mead of Greenwich who kindly ac-
companied him home. It was found
necessary to take the foot off across the
ill-Step. Mr. W. will receive the warm-
est sympathies of the. entire community’
at this painful and lamentable affliction-
We hope this will in a measure Ille-
viate his acute suffering, which it in suit
he bears with true manly heroism.
____________,___.__
Narrow E508!”-
Mr. David Lockwood and a workman ‘of hi1 .
named Buudy, had a ntu'i'0‘V 99°“P" f"°m ma“!
destruction, during the storm of Saturday ti '
sth inst. A true in the rear oflfr. I.’e shop WI 4
struck, when the electric cu|'l'¢1l‘ P3559“ ‘!“'°“5
the nude,-pining into the shop and throwingtl
ties above, senseless, some six feet diets '
Pm’ .
from where they were standing.
. r”_________________
Sun Struck.
we learn that an Irishman, in the employ
Mr Wm Wood of Westport, was Sun Stru=‘:~
on Thursday’ lust and died in a few Inilmtél
j
Struck by Lightning.
A dwelling in Cross Hi¢h““7v W°“".“”*‘
was struck by Lizhtllifl 1”‘ ¥°“d“7 “i"'t*
“ad a min iefiougly It.
. .4 '
..,
Norwalk Chronicler