Year: 1867




most hear the breezes from the Wilder
ness singing their melancholy dirges over
Stuart, and Ashby, and Pelham, and
Hill, and Jackson, dear to God. He
has no love, nor veneratiou, nor tender
ness, nor pity for any of these; but tear.
ing open the graves Of the immortal dead,
he blends them with the living in one
sacrilegious anathema of contemptuous
hatred.


1t is not often that men like Pollard
and Jordan can gloat over the agony of
such spirit and the degeneration of
such name. 1t is not often that such
noble bosom is laid bare to the thrust
of every rufian's spear or the dagger of
every towards hand. 1t is not often
that desolated nation wrthes under the
blows Of its children and the crulties Of
its own ofsprings. 1tis not often that
the world furnishes human hymnas to
exhume the bodies of her sainted dead
and howl in horrid delight over the re-
voting feast.


Drape the picture of nation iu its
agony and cover its laurels with the
mourning cypres. Furl the conquered
banner with a farewell look and shrine
its memory in our heart of hearts; but to
those who curse and and vilify ruined
race give vengeance, scorn, and never
anding contempt.


History tells us how Carolinus halted
his victorious legions beyond the yellow
Tiber, but that Nero fiddled a goddess
tune while Rome was burning. Amid
the graves of his kindred, the anguish
and dispair of brave men in their crush
ing overthrow; amid the blue skies and
green fields Of his nativity, E. A. Pallard
dips his pen in the gall of New England
hate, and writes the record of his own
everlasting infamy and digrace.


ADVICE TO MAIDENs. -"Punch's
Pocket Book" some years since. CON
tanned the following, from the pen of "a
single woman of the world:p


"If man wipes his feet on the door
mat before coming into the room, you
may be sure he will make good domestic
husband. If a man, in snuffing the can
dies, snuffs them out, you may be sure
he will make a stupid husband. If man
puts his handkerchief on his knees whilst
taking his tea, you may be sure he will
be prudent husband. In the same
way, always mistrust the man who will
not take the last piece of toast or Sally
Lunn, but prefers waiting for the next
warm batch. 1t is not unlikely he will
make greedy, selfish husband, with
whom you will enjoy no brown at atdinner,
no crust at tea, no peace whatever at home.
The man, my dears, who wears goloshes'
and is careful about wrapping himself up
well before venturing into the night air
not unfrequently makes a good invalid
husband that mostly stops at home, and
is easily comforted with slops. The man
who watches the kettle and prevents it
boiling over will not fail, my dears, in
his married state in exercising the same
care in always keeping the pot boiling.
The man who doesn't take tea, i'll treats
the cat, takes snuff and stands with his
back to the fire, lisa brute whom 1 would
not advise you, my dears, to marry upon
any consideration either, for love or
money, but most decidedly not for love-
But the man who, when the tea is over,
is discovered to have had none, is sure
to make the best husband. Patience like
his deserves being rewarded with the best
of wives and the best of mothers in law
My dears when you meet with such a
man, do your utmost to marry him. In
the severest winter he wonld not mind
going to bed first"


R9-The most astonishing sentence in
IL r. -.