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The Democratic ascendency in the South had become so complete that out of one hundred and six Congressional districts the opposition had only been able to elect four representatives, Leonidas C. Houck from East Tennessee, Daniel L. Russell of North Carolina, Milton G. Urner of Maryland, and Joseph Jorgensen of Virginia.

Nathan D. Urner, of the Tribune, whose experience of city life has made him a valuable authority in such matters, has recently contributed an article on this subject to Packard's Monthly for November, 1868, from which we make the following interesting quotations: "As a general rule, the little ones have parents or relatives mostly engaged in the same business to whose support they contribute; but there are both men and women in the city and most heartless, worthless wretches they are who import orphan children from Naples and Tuscany, for the purpose of turning their childish talents, both as musicians and beggars, to practical account.

"Well, I guess you'd be, too, Urner, if you could get such a nice girl to notice you," returned Tom dryly. And then he added: "You must remember we are all old friends." "Oh, I know that; and I was only joking."

But we passed unharmed, and a quarter of a mile further on Winston stopped in the welcome shelter of the Urner Loch, a tunnelled passage in the rock.

Nathan D. Urner, of the Tribune, wrote the following amusing account, which appeared in that journal, July 14, 1865, and was very generally quoted from and copied by provincial papers, many of whose readers accepted every line of the glowing narrative as "gospel truth": "Soon after the breaking out of the conflagration, a number of strange and terrible howls and moans proceeding from the large apartment in the third floor of the Museum, corner of Ann street and Broadway, startled the throngs who had collected in front of the burning building, and who were at first under the impression that the sounds must proceed from human beings unable to effect their escape.

Nathan D. Urner, from whose interesting paper in Packard's Monthly we have already quoted, draws the following touching picture of minstrel life: A horrible murder had been committed. All engaged in it, including the victim, were foreigners. There was not a redeeming feature, not even the rather equivocal one of passion's frenzy, connected with the deed.