smithclay/nortonstories huggingface dataset:
Year: 1863

Holbrook's United States Mail has an
abstract of the provisions of the new
postal law, from which we quote few
paragraphs


Letter Postage Postage On local or
drop letters will hereafter be two cents,
when not exceeding half an ounce, and
an additional rate for each half-ouncO
or fraction of an ounce-in all cases to
be prepaid by postage stamps. No
charge will be made either for delivery
or collection of any class of letters,
whether local or from or intended to bO
sent by the mails. r


The regulations respecting soldiers
letters remain the same as before.


The amendment of the House, estab.
fishing money order system, was reject
ed in the Senate and finally abandoned.


On all matter required by law to DO
prepaid, and which shall reach its desti-
nation unpaid, double the usual rate
must be collected on delivery, and IN
sufficient payment to be wholly disre-
garded.


The fee for the registration of letters
is left optional with the Postmaster
General; but it is not to exceed twenty
cents per letter.


Unsealed circulars, not exceeding
three, to one address, arc to be charged
with two cents postage, and IN that pre-
portion for a greater number.


Newspaper Postage.-Weekly papers
five cents per quarter, semi-weekly ten
cents, six times per week thirty cents.
seven times per week thirty-fye cents.
At these rates the weight must not ex-
ceed four ounces-in each case payable
in advance per quarter or year, either
at the mailing or delivery office.
No extra charge is to be made for
card printed or impressed upon circu-
lar or letter envelope or wrapper. Cir
culars may be prepaid by stamps.


The Postmaster General may from
time to time provide by order the rates
and terms upon which route agents may
receive and deliver at the mail car or
steamer, packages of newspapers and
periodicals delivered to them for that
purpose by the publishers or news agents
in charge thereof, and not received from
or designed for delivery at any post Of
| fee.
Year: 1863

A baker named Mayard, who lived
in Lyons, (France,) distributed daily a
quantity of bread to the poor workmen,
and those who were destitute, and who
could not bring themselves to solicit
charity, The worthy baker took as
much trouble in discovering the dwell
ings and wants Of his pensioners, as if
he expected to benefit by their custom,
He visited those abodes Of poverty and
wretchedness to carry consolation and
succor to many an aching heart; and
when the objects of his bounty, express
cd their gratitude for his favors, his
usual reply was, "Away my friends,
with your thanks, [ have more pleasure
in giving than you can have in receiv-
ing 7. Such was Mayard, one night as
this good man was making his accus-
toned distribution, he observed from
his backshop, man, who with an un-
steady hand, seized two small loaves
which lay on the counter.


The baker advanced, and the thief in
stantly took to flight. Mayard pursued ,
at which the culprit redoublcd his
speed, and darting down an obscure al
Lev, he entered an old house and ascend,
ed to the fifth story, where he opened
small door, the boards of which were
cracked and broken, ,and carefully closedit
after him. His pursuer who had follow
ed him so closely as to reach his dwell
ing almost as soon as himself, felt desir-
Gus to know something of the offender,
and peeping through the openings of the
door, saw a most miserable garret,
scarcely fit for the retreat of the most
miserable Of the human race.


He observed tears roll down the
cheeks of the thief while he broke up
the bread and gave it to four starving
children, without reserving morsel for
himself. "Eat!" he exclaimed, "Eat
AS for me [ want no food | shall die
of grief, for [ have committed a base
and unworthy action. Alas if you but
knew'-Mayard did not let him finish,
and with one blow forced open the door
and said to the man, "Is it not shame
to allow these miserable creatures to die
of hunger What, take two paltry
loaves, when [ would willingly have
given you what you required? am sor-
ry you have so little confidence in me.
for feel I merit yours. Listen to me
you must come every day to my shop
for what bread you require" The
grateful family now relieved from terror
and distress, fell on their knees be-
fore their benefactor, and loaded him
with thanks and blessings. do you
wish to distress me p said the good
man, 81 have only given way to my feel
ings but on reflection you need moi
come for the bread, [ shall bring it my.
self.


! Give me neither poverty nor riches
feed me with food convenient for me
lest I be full and deny thee, and say
Who is the Lord /? or lest be poor ant
steal.
Year: 1863

"The dead are like the stars by day,


Withdrawn from mortal eve;


Yet unperceived they hold their wag
In glory through the sky!"
-4Ont9omtry.
Ye are gone from the saddened hearth,


Your time -hushed tones are Stilled;
Ye are gone from the bower of earth,


From the homes your presence filled.
Ye are gone to the spirits land,


And we miss your looks of love;
Ye have joined that happy band


Who rejoice in light above.
And our spirits yearn below


For the music of your voice;
For our longing hearts would know


That which bids you rejoice.
Ye have done with sin and sorrow,


Ye are freed from care and pain:
Yc dread not the coming morrow,


Ye never can fear again.
Ye have laid down those mansions Of clay
Around which sad memory hoverS
And your spirits have winged their way
To scenes their pure vision discovers.
The golden bowl is broken,


Loosen lifes silver cord
And your spirits, by angels spoken,
Rejoice with Christ the Lord
Ye dwell in the pure light of love,


Ye dwell with the Lamb who was Slain;
Ye dwell with the ransomed above,


And our loss is your infinite gain.
Oh tell us, we new born mortals!


Where the friends of your pilgrim days,
When We entered those heavenly portals,
Shut out from your wondering gaze
Or do we, on guardian wings,


Oft pause on your errands of love,
In our dull ears some accents to sing,
Some strain of that blest land abovos
Would ye bid us look up, and rejoice;
For We still by our pathway attend f
And though hushed to our sense your glad


voice.
Your freed spirits with ours still blend.
Year: 1863

So understand how to the Infinite,
in whose sight thousand years are as
one day, the life of helpless, encum-
bering little one may be more precious
and fuller of promise than the spent
years of the mother. And so / was
persuaded that every overborne, wea-
ried nurse should take heart in her end
less toll, knowing that perhaps the
young existence which seems so paltry
and so full of wants, may blossom out
at last, even in the undeveloped stages
of this earthly life into such beautiful
fruition that whatever was intrusted in
any way to the care and rearing of it,
may well give thanks for the blessing.
Year: 1863

A correspondent of the Rural New


Yorker says: This is subject of great
interest to wool growers generally, and
one that is being freely debated in all
Northern wool-growing communities


In the Rural of April 25th. is com
munication upon this subject. from A.
E., of Warren's Corners, N. Y, in
which he goes in very strong for the
"honored CUSTOM and triumphantly
asks, "What effect does soap and water
have upon our poor, returning soldiers
from Southern prisonsg" Well, sup
posed A. E. should propose to some of
them to go with him from one to three,
or perhaps five miles, to some muddy
river or pond, and let him throw them
in after the manner of washing sheep,
and be will be very likely to know at
least the effect of the proposition. His
argument in favor of washing sheep, be-
cause some of them got dung on their
wool, ''ingots of the largest size," is
powerful reason why they should be
sheared without, preventive being bet
ter than cure shear them early, before
they get dirty. Sheep that have been
housed through the winter, and shsared
before they ere let out to grass in the
spring, will clip handsomer and better,
handling wool, than in the usual way
and time of washing and sheering them,
with no heavier feeces if the generally
expressed opinions of wool growers in
this section can be relied on.


The question is, will it pay not to
acash sheep, while buyers ask reduc-
tion of twenty-five per cent, on un-
washed wool? think not, for the fol-
lowing reason: A good flock of sheep
will sheer from six to eight pounds of
wool per head. Now, will it pay the
present prices of wool, to shrink his
fleece pound and halfor two pounds,
for the privilege of shearing without
washing? If he were to let his sheep
run until,they would sheer eight or ten
pounds per head, which they would
easily do by the usual time of shearing,
owing to the accumulation of oil and
dirt while in the pasture, perhaps it
would. Wool buyers in this vicinity
make very little difference between
clean and dirty wool, the difference be-
ing made between washed and un-
washed wool, paying a certain price
for washed, wool and three -fourths as
much for unwasbed wool of the same
grade. Now, what wool-growers ask
is, for the manufacturer to come and
buy their wool themselves, or send men
with reasonable modicum of honesty
and brains enough to know clean from
dirty wool, regardless ofthe ceremony
of washing.


Show your wool to buyer, and after
a slight examination, the first question
he will ask, nine times out of ten, will
be, sis your wool washed ?" and upon
the answer to that question depends
the price, and not upon the quality of
your wool. There are exceptions, but
this is the rule. Is this right? Is this
the way to either buy or sell wool i?
Let those interested answer for them
selves.
Year: 1863

(;orxa f4sHisc- clergyman Of
country village desired his clerk to give
notice that there would be no service in
.he afternoon as he was going to officiate
for another clergyman. The clerk. rs
soon as the sermon was ended, rose up will
all due solemaity and called out "I am
desired TO give notice that there will be no
service this afternoon as Mr. L. is going a
fishing with another clergyman.
Year: 1863

h ~ We understand that there are Sc
veral boxes of arms at Oregon, sent there
BY Col. Branch. to arm the Holt County
rebels. We trust the Union mon Of that
County have too much spunk to allow it.
Year: 1863

" Women more Fast" but men
more Fastidious. In Boston, during the
year 1862, there were six cases in which
white women were married to colored
men; but not one marriage between a
white man and black woman.
Year: 1863

goes with it, that the supply of beer determines
the demand. Nothing can be more gratuitious
than to infer from the fact that the evils of ntox


cation Sc are in proportion to the number and ex-
tent of the licensed publichouses, spirit vaults,
and beershops," that these are the cause, and the
love of drinking the effect. 1t may well be the
other way. and it is quite open to any one to think
that the taste of the consumers should be reformed
first, and the publicans trade curtailed afterwards


Not that the real objection to interference in this
case depends on any such question. That objection
was fairly and clearly stated by Sir g. Grey. 1t
is founded on the sound principle that a majority
cannot justly be deprived of freedom of action in
their private concerns by the will of minority
No law is higher than the law of individual iber-
ty, and no reasoning is worth much on moral
subject that puts in issue s,le policy of placing
human nature in a state of probation at all
Year: 1863

There are many names in Tennessee,
and particularly in the eastern portion of
that State, which the loyal people will not
willingly let die. They will be read and
thought of in the far future as the present
generation look back at the demigOgs of
the Revolution. A letter from Cincinnati,
of recent date, gives some account of one
of those noble-hearted Tennesseans, and
as the story came from the lips of dying
man, it is probably truthful. The writer
states that among the prisoners at Camp
DennisOn, Ohio, was one named Neil, who,
when asked how he came to be Rebel,
stated that the SecessiOnists scared him
into it.


He had been postmaster in Van Buren,
county, Tennessee, and Union man. The
rebels held three elections in that county,
but got hardly a solitary vote in Neil's pre-
cinct. Enraged at this, they imported
force Of soldiers and began to lynch un-
armed Unionists. This style of procedure
made some converts, but it was withstood.
Among the victims Neil spoke of-and, as
he knew that he was dying, he reminded
his hearers OF his obligation to speak the
simple truth-was the martyr patriot whose
history he thus recited:


There was in Van Buren, county an old
Methodist preacher Of great deal of
ability, named Cavender. He was from
the first most determined Union man,
and as his influence in the country was
great, they determined to make an exam-
pie of him and get him out of the way
So they took him out of his house, put a
rope around his neck, and, setting him
upon horse, led him into forest They
then told him that unless he would re-
nounce his Unionism they would hang
him. Cavender replied =" God gave me
my breath to bear witness to His truth,
and when | must turn it 10 the world of
lies and crime, it is well enough to yield
it up to him who gave it,"


They then asked him if he had any part
ing request. He said ''he had no hope
that they would attend to anything he
might ask They said they would He
then asked that they would take his body
to his daughter, with the request that she
would lay it beside the remains of his wife. -
They then said sit is time to 90 to your
prayers" He replied, "I'm not one OF
Iil0 SOrl VINO lS 10 WalU until the rope Is
round his neck to pray Then they said,
"Come, old man, no nonsense, if you don't
swear to stand by the Confederacy, you'll
have to hang" at the same tying the rope
to branch.


The old man said, "Hang away" One
then gave blow with will to the horse
upon which Cavender sat; the horse
sprang forward, and the faithful servant of
God and his country passed into eternity.
You will remember that they said they
would fulfil his last request. Well, they
tore the flesh off his bones and threw it
to the hogs; his heart was cut out and lay
in public place till it rotted. Can it be
wondered if few are strong enough to re-
sist their only legitimate arguments for
rebellion. -NashpWe Jnioa
Year: 1863

From the Peoria Transcript, 18th.


Last week, deserter from the 77th ar
rived at his home in this city, after much
doubling and twisting, and many a weary
and dreary walk to avoid being captured.
He was married only the week previous to
his regiment leaving Camp Peoria, and of
course, after brushing up little, one of his
first calls was upon his bride. The news,
however, of his desertion had preceded
him, and his young wife, who is truly a
patriotic and Union loving lady, met him
at the door and refused him admittance,
stating in very emphatic manner, that
"there was no room in that house for a
deserter." His chop-fallen appearance
when he met with some of his old asso-
ciates, can well be imagined, and we are
informed his wife utterly refuses to ac-
knowledge him as her liege lord, until he
returns to the line of his duty. He left
the next day for the country, where he is
now rejecting upon the fate of traitors and
towards.
Year: 1863

Ex-President Harrison, in letter to
Mr.. Monroe, in 1920, says


am and have been for many years so
much opposed to slavery that l will never
live in slave state. But believe that
the Constitution has given no power to the
General Government to interfere in this
matter and that to have slaves or no
slaves depends upon the people in each
state alone. But besides tt constitutional
objection, I am persuaded that the obvious
tendency Of such interference on the part
of the States which have no slaves with
the property Of their fellow citizens of the
others, is to produce state of discomfort
and jealousy that will, in the end prove
fatal to the Union. believe that in no
other State are such will and dangerous
sentiments entertained on this subject as
in Ohio.


President Harrison was not believer in
the new-fangled theory that slavery would
destroy the Union, but he thought illegal
Abolition interference with it would.
Year: 1863

Strong of limb, and fleet of foot, with
crisp, auburn curls, with cheeks like hard
red apples, and eyes glowing like stars,
Angus M'Lean was surely not likely to be
the victim of nervous disease. His family
said he had the gift of second sight. But
We have been accustomed to consider these
"children Of the mist" even when they
happen to belong to the stronger sex, to
be weak even as hysterical women. Their
bodies we suppose to be emaciated, their
nerves without tone, and if they see into
the next world, we Judge it is because the
vail of flesh is tretted 50 thin by disease,
that it becomes as it were transparent.
Bat Angus MLean was no hysterical,
nervous, or nerveless being, bearing about
the misery of unmanliness and seeing
ghosts in every graveyard. He was a
man OF few words, and never told aught
that he had seen that common eyes could
never see. unless it were to do some good
or avert some evil. And he would have
been a brave friend or foe who dared ask
Angus aught respecting ghostology. What
Angus chose to reveal, was told simply,
truthtully, and with no seeming sense of
the marvellous | remember night in
Edinburgh when | was young and ineXpe-
rienced, with hot blood in my heart and
my head, that Il singular adventure be-
fel me- | had been sent by my father to
the Horns public-house TO meet a drOver,
who was to pay him some money. |
had received the money, and should
have gone directly home, for the sun was
very considerable, and 1 was not one to
venture on my own strength. Then this
house, to which | was sent, had fallen un-
der suspicion as a place where our nation
al morality was not respected as it should
be. But | troubled myself little about
rumors. was young and full of enthusi-
arm, and pleased to be trusted by my
father with so important matter. My
father was so much an invalid, that he
used to call me his hands and feet. We
had been in pecuniary difficulties, which
if had taken all our fortitude to bear, but
this money was to set us free, and make
NV father as much at ease as man with
moderate wants and enough to supply
them. can be. | went then with an ex-
cellent heart to receive this money, which
was duly paid me. l put it safely In my
pocket. and was about to return at once to
my home, when tall, pale man, who sat
apart in the coffee-rOom, interested me,
and fingered for one moment, thinking
what mig ght the book be that ne was read
ing. AS l looked at him he raised his eyes
to mine with glance of quick intelligence
and closed his book, keeping his place
with his thumb bet Xeen the leaves. Iher
he addressed me as if by feeling common
sympathy, and said:


"Young gentleman, do you happen tt
be familiar with The Coters Saturday
Night?' -"


Now Burns was my idol, and that home
scene, with its piety, purity, and poetry
was sacred to me. | expressed nay feeling
with the enthusiasm of youth, and tht
stranger seemed delighted with my senti
ments, but he sighed heavily.


"Far from home." said he, "this ex
Year: 1863

Close his eyes his work is done.
What to him is friend or foeman,
Rise of moon, or set of sun,
Hand of man, or kiss of woman?
Lay him low, lay him low,
In the clover Or the SNOW.
What cares he? he cannot know:


Lay him low
As man may, he fought his fight
Proved his truth by his endeavor;
Let him sleep in solemn night:
Sleep forever and forever,


Lay him low lay him low,
In the clover or the snow.
What cares he? he cannot know:


Lay him low!
Fold him in his country's stars,
Roll the drum and fire the vOlley.
What to him are all our wars,
What but death bemOcking folly?
Lay him low, lay him low,
In the clover Or the snow
What cares he? he cannot know:


Lay him low
Leave him to Gods watching eye,
Trust him to the hand that made him
Mortal love weeps idly by:
God alone has power to aid him.
Lay him low, lay him low,
In the clover or the snow.
What cares he? he cannot know:


Lay him lOwi
- -Pi!ndelDRi,a Press
Year: 1863

From the Newsdeae,.


was conversing not long since with a
returned volunteer.


Il was IN the hospital as nurse, for
long time,'' said he, land assisted in TAX
ing off limbs, and dressing all sorts Of
wounds; but the hardest thing ever did
was to take my thumb Off q mans leg"


"Ah." said I chow was that ? -
Then he told me-


"It was a young man who had a severe
wound in the thigh. The bail passed COM
pletely through, and amputation was ne
cessary The limb was cut Off close up to
the body, the arteries taken up, and he
seemed to be doing well. Subsequently
one of the small arteries sloughed Off. An
incisiOn was made, and it was again taken
up. 1T is well it was not the main ar
terry said the surgeon, as he performed
the operation; 'he might have bled to
death before we could have taken it up.
But Charley got on finely, and was ia
vorite with us all


Twas passing through the wards one
night about midnight when suddenly as l
was passing Charleys bed he spoke to me.
Oh my leg is bleeding again. | threw
back the clothes, and the blood spirited in
the air. The main artery had slouched
off!


Fortunately knew just what to do, and
in an instant had pressed my thumb on
the place and stopped the bleeding. twas
so close to the body that there was barely
room for my thumb, but l succeeded in
keeping it there and rousing one of the
convalescents, sent him for the surgeon,
who came in on the run. 81 am so
thankful, H. said he as he saw me,
"that you were up and knew what to do,
for he must have bled to death before I
could have got here"


But on examination of the case he
looked exceedingly serious and sent out
for other surgeons. All came who were
within reach and consultation was held
over the poor fellow One conclusion was
reached by all. There was no place to
work save the spot where my thumb
pressed; they could not work under my
thumb and if l moved he would bleed to
death before the artery could be taken
up. There was no way to save his life.


Poor Charley! He was very calm when
they told him, and requested that his
brother, who was in the same hospital,
might be called up. He came and sat
down by the bedside, and for three hours l
stood, and by the pressure of my thumb,
kept up the life in Charley while the
brothers had their last conversation on
earth. 1t was strange place for me to
be in, to feel that l held the life of fell
low mortal in my hands as it were, and
stranger yet, to feel that an act of mine
must cause that life to depart. Loving the
poor fellow as did, it was hard thought,
but there was no alternative.


The last words were spoken. Charley
had arranged all his business affairs and
sent tender messages to absent ones who
little dreamed how near their loved one
stood to the grave. The tears filled my
eyes more than once as listened to those
parting words. All were said and he turn
ed to me. "Now H, l guess you had
better take off your thumb" ooh, Char
ley! how can II" I said. "But it must
be, you know" he replied cheerfully-"I
thank you very much for your kindness
and now, good bye."


He turned away his head. raised my
thumb. Once more the crimson life-cur-
rent gushed forth. In three minutes poor
Charley was dead"
Year: 1863

Jenny is poor, and am poor;


Yet we will wed-so say no more:
And should the bairnies to us come
And few there are but do have some
No doubt but heaven will stand our friend,
And bread as well as children send:
SO fares the hen in farmers yard,
To live alone she finds it hard
I've known her weary every claw,
In scratch Of corn among the straw,
But when in quest of nicer food,
She clucks among her chirping brood.
With joy we see the self-same hen,
That scratched for one could scratch for ten.
These are the thoughts that make me willing
To take my girl without shilling,
And for the self same cause you see.
Jenny's resolved to marry me.